Live Or Die Make Your Choice
by angie2282
Summary: The bitter battle between Jill Tuck and Hoffman over Jigsaw's legacy throws 14 unknown strangers in a deadly trap room in which they must follow the rules or suffer the dire consequences.
1. Sign Up!

Okay so since I decided to revert my other Saw story back to it's original one-shot (sorry about that) I'm starting a new one to kind of fill up the void. I guess this means my hiatus is officially over! Well at least until late October or November when I'll start the story. It's going to be about Jill and Hoffman's battle over John's legacy and the dire consequences. Loads of familiar faces will also be involved as well as the usual surprising Saw-esque twists. I might be ignoring the plot of the last movie partly (who else is excited for that movie by the way) but those are the works. Anyways, getting back to the story. It will be a create-your-own-character story and hopefully your character makes it out! Some traps will be designed by me and others will be classics from the movies. I'll be accepting maybe 10 or so characters. So just fill out the info below in a review and wait and see if your character makes it through! Thanks to Oggytheogre321 who inspired me to finally start this with his extremely well-written story that revolves somewhat around old Jiggy and to SALJStella for all the advice. Well I'm going to shut up now and let you create!

Name:

Gender:

Age:

Appearance:

Personality:

Habits: (Drugs, smoke, drink, etc.)

Reason being tested:


	2. Revenge

Mark Hoffman locked the back door of the big white van and slid into the front seat of the van. As he started up the van, he realized that he was still wearing the signature pig mask. He yanked it off and pulled out of the parking lot of a plain apartment complex.

The reflection from the rear view mirror revealed more than just the scarred face of the last apprentice standing but the fiery blue eyes of a man who desired revenge.

Jill Tuck would pay for what she had done. She had left him for dead but his quick thinking had gotten him through, though not without consequences. It had taken 47 stitches and surgery to repair the damage that the Reverse Bear Trap had left on his cheek. Amanda had definitely put effort into remaking the new model.

Hoffman sighed slightly at the thought of his former competitor. He had gotten her killed and still wasn't sure whether he regretted it or not. The defiant ex-junkie had been the only thing standing between him and John's legacy. Yet remorse was a strange thing, it tended to come back and forth in waves with him usually hitting at the worst of times like when he had read Amanda's letter. Seconds later he had been strapped to a chair and left to die.

His wrapped hand twitched at the thought. Jill Tuck would pay.

She was however nowhere to be found. He had visited the clinic where she worked but she hadn't been there in days. Her apartment was still intact though with all the furniture and belongings in place which begged the question; if she hadn't skipped town where was she?

News of his miraculous escape from what the media referred to as 'yet another vicious Jigsaw trap' had been released a couple of weeks ago so it was logical that Jill would've heard by now and been on the run. Maybe she had developed her own sense of stealth from her time with John.

John…

John Kramer, Jill Tuck's ex-husband, Hoffman's mentor, and the infamous Jigsaw himself. He had been killed a while back along with Amanda.

A sudden smirk appeared on Hoffman's face. Even in death John had been a master anticipator. He had always expected every possibility and offered all sorts of options and alternatives. Unbeknownst to Jill perhaps, he had also anticipated the possibility of Mark escaping the trap.

Maybe John had tampered with Amanda's upgraded trap after she was done or maybe she herself had done it on his request but someone had hidden away a tape inside the Reverse Bear Trap.

It had fallen out after the hunk of metal fell on the floor. After recovering in the hospital, Mark had played it immediately.

_Hello, Mark. I trust that you are less than pleased with my actions but understand that they were for your own good. What benefits could've been reaped from my not testing you? What would you have learned? Since you are hearing this tape it means that my legacy has a chance to continue. You have proven your perseverance and will to survive but could you listen? Could you set aside your feelings and complete one final task? I ask for you to simply end my legacy, set up one final yet vital trap. This is not a game. If you wish you may walk away from my life's work completely, continue with your routine life that I'm sure you've missed. If not then there are instructions in a marked envelope hidden away in my workshop. Follow them and secure the end of my legacy. But you must ignore common instincts and NOT seek revenge against Jill if you wish to complete this task. The consequences from any defiance against these rules will be worse than death. So Mark, I have now offered you the options available. What will you decide?_

At this point whether he believed in Jigsaw's legacy or not Hoffman could really care less about continuing it. He just needed his revenge he needed Jill Tuck to suffer. But he had gone back to the workshop. He had found the envelope stuffed with pictures of the next victims and he had begun setting up the game.

News of the new Jigsaw horrors would draw Jill out. He couldn't do it himself in fear of drawing attention to himself but the police would track her down for interrogation. She would come out of hiding and he would find her.

The red traffic light flashed in front of him and Hoffman eyed the blueprints next to him briefly. He had managed to find a couple of new blueprints of traps that had never been used but mostly the new game would involve some old favorites.

Hoffman pulled up outside a dark seemingly empty house. He opened up the rear of the truck and several familiar objects glinted and came into view. The Knife and Reverse Bear Traps, a set of hypodermic needles, Billy the Puppet, and an unconscious victim; Sydney Terrell. Hoffman carefully lifted her over his shoulders and began walking towards the warehouse.

He knew Sydney from a little stint they had had years ago. But it was over now and she like the others would have to be tested. Whether or not she made it out was up to her.

* * *

Thirteen strangers woke up in an unknown room, their wrists bound with spikes protruding through them. The large room was full of broken glass everywhere and a single steel door stood out, a digital clock above it. There was a small television screen in the far corner of the room.

"W-what the hell? Where are we?" Corrine McDowell cried, tugging at the cuffs. This only resulted in a surge of pain.

"T-That's a good question." Patricia Sinclair whispered fearfully, her rare purple eyes wide.

"GET ME OUT!" Connor Granger yelled angrily. He too struggled against the binds that held them all in place. He let out a small hiss of pain. Blood trickled slowly down his forearm.

"Are we on some kind of sick game show?" Dan Miller asked dazedly. He wasn't panicked like the others but had a rather mellow confused look instead.

"No," Ella Faulkner spoke up. She had a far away look on her fair-skinned face. "This is a game. Jigsaw's game…"

Everyone turned to look at her.

Suddenly, there was a static sound and the television screen lit up.

**Author's Note: Well there you go the beginning of the end! If your character wasn't introduced (most weren't) be rest assured that they will in the next chapter. Now reviewers you have the option of picking a memorable place to appear in the story like for example the infamous bathroom, the nerve gas house, etc. Just click on that shiny 'review' button and let me know! Thanks for reading and sending in your awesome characters!**


	3. Pierce My Heart

**Author's Note: This trap was inspired by the needle pit from Saw 2. It might suck so just go along with it. Enjoy!**

"Yes, thank you." Jill Tuck hung up the pay phone she had been using outside her motel.

A brisk wind breezed past her, and her dirty blonde hair flew around her concentrated face. Jill sighed and began walking back to the motel, warily eyeing her surroundings. With Hoffman on the loose she couldn't help but be paranoid.

She found the phone conversation she had just had replaying in her mind as she securely locked the door her motel room. Dr. Lawrence Gordon, John's former doctor and one of the very few survivors was currently staying in Fairbanks Hotel, only a couple of hundred miles away.

Jill perched herself on the tip of her bed and pressed her hand to her temple. Why hadn't John warned her? If he knew there was even the slightest possibility that Mark Hoffman could survive the trap why hadn't he left her any options as to what to do? He spent the last remaining years of his life giving complete strangers chances and alternatives and yet he hadn't given a second thought as to what would happen to his own wife if one of his ideas failed. Now she was being forced to bring together what few survivors there were to try and work up a plan.

She angrily threw a crummy pillow from the bed against the wall. Then she remembered that she wasn't his wife anymore. After the incident with Gideon he had left her behind as if _he_ was the only one who had lost him. And then he had moved on to his 'greater purpose'.

Jill had always struggled to understand John's mantra and now with his death and the whole ordeal with Hoffman the doubts had come flooding in. Even Amanda whom he had called living proof that his rehabilitation methods worked, was now dead. Amanda.

Amanda Young had been there the night that Gideon was killed. Amanda had been with Cecil, she had caused the death of her only child.

Strange as it seemed she still wasn't entirely sure how she felt about it. The anger or hate hadn't hit her yet neither had the sadness. She never much had that much of an opinion on Amanda. When she had been a patient in her clinic she had been just like the others; hopeless and frustrating. One of the only patients she had ever given up on. Then when John had taken her under his wing and 'changed' her, Jill's opinion still remained neutral. But now she understood why Amanda had always avoided her why she had given her those brief guilty looks. Amanda had killed her child. Whether it had been intentional or not she had been there and she didn't do anything to help.

Still, she preferred Amanda over Hoffman any day.

The murderous bastard was still out there, looking for her.

She couldn't exactly blame him for wanting revenge but wasn't that the reason he had been tested in the first place? Because he had sought revenge against his sister's murderer? Wasn't that what John had tried to change within him? Even more miscalculations on his part.

Jill lay back on her bed and closed her eyes.

_Why John why?_

It didn't matter at this point she realized, pulling the covers over her. What's done was done and no one could change it. Her only hope now was to find Lawrence Gordon.

Among the other survivors.

* * *

The face of a painted puppet appeared on the screen.

"What the-"

"Shut up!"

_Greetings, I trust you are all wondering why you are here. All 13 of you are here for one reason and one reason only; you do not value your lives. You've all lived life without a purpose, some of you committing terrible crimes and others completely oblivious to your surroundings as life passes you by. But all that will change. You are all connected in ways that are essential to your survival. Think of this house as a fortress from which you can't escape unless and until you make these connections._

_Right now this room currently acts as your first test. Your wrists are bound to what I like to call 'pressure cuffs'. The spikes as you can see are protruding through your wrists though I can assure you that they are not intersecting any major arteries. You must escape from these cuffs to continue on to the next room. Yes, it will be painful but not fatal. However, once one of you has escaped the cuffs a trigger will be set off, giving you 3 minutes to find the key to the steel door before you, among the shards of glass. At the end of the 3 minutes the steel door will be sealed forever and whoever has not escaped will be left to die. I urge you all to work together. Live or die make your choice._

The TV screen lit off leaving behind a tense silence.

"GET ME OUT!" Connor Granger roared, continuing his struggle against the cuffs.

A loud uproar followed.

"What is this?"

"Is this a joke?"

"Where are we?"

"What's going on?"

"SHUT UP!" Savvi Nottingham yelled.

Everyone quieted down.

"We've heard the damn rules and we know why we're here already. Now let's focus and get the hell out." She instructed the excessive amount of eyeliner around her eyes smudged.

"Who the hell is Jigsaw?" Drake Aaron demanded his brown eyes focused on Ella Faulkner.

Ella looked away and closed her eyes. "He's a serial killer well technically. He builds eccentric traps designed to test people's will to survive. He…he captured my brother Adam. I haven't heard from him since."

"But isn't he dead? Who would be setting up the traps?" Drake pointed out.

"Who cares?" Sydney Terrell snapped. "It could be Santa Clause for all I care, what matters is us getting out."

"Then we should all get to know each other, find the connection that Jigsaw was talking about." Chloe Barnett reasoned.

"No, we should try and get these freaking cuffs off and get out." Connor argued.

"It won't matter whether we get out or not, the TV said that finding the key in this room won't get us out of the house itself. We need to find why we're connected." Chloe reminded him.

"Oh give me a bre-"

"My name is Chloe Barnett".

Connor opened his mouth but was interrupted by Ella.

"I'm Ella Faulkner".

"I'm Sydney Terrell".

Eventually everyone began succumbing to the peer pressure.

"Drake Aaron"

"Oliver Green" said a blonde-haired man.

"Patricia Sinclair".

On and on they went until everyone was introduced; Chloe Barnett, Ella Faulkner, Sydney Terrell, Drake Aaron, Oliver Green, Patricia Sinclair, Dan Miller, Corrine McDowell, Savvi Nottingham, Michelle Williams, Lance Mccollons, Lenard Rodriguez, and grudgingly, Connor Granger.

"Well big fucking whoop we all know our names. Now I'm getting out." He hissed.

"No wait!"

But with a grunt of pain Connor pulled his arms down, and freed his wrists.

Blood began spilling down his arm simultaneously as the digital clock above the steel door began counting down.

"Crap!" Corrine yelled.

Connor almost dove into the sea of glass-until he and everyone else for that manner finally noticed that they were missing their shoes.

"Oh God." Michelle moaned.

**2:50**

"Find the key!" Ella screeched, trying to release herself in a less painful way. So far there was none.

Connor scoffed as he stepped over the glass, ignoring the pain. "Oh please if I find it do you honestly think I'm going to help any of you out?" A twisted smile crept on his lips as he continued his search.

**2:40**

"You son of a-"

"Gah!" Oliver yelled, as he too pulled his arms down and escaped. Blood oozed down onto the crystal clear shards.

Drake and Dan followed suit, wincing as the cuffs fell to the floor.

**2:30**

Patricia and Michelle stood rooted to the spot, shaking in fear while Lance, Chloe, and Lenard yanked their wrists away.

"Fuck this." Sydney muttered. Biting her tongue, she ripped her wrists away and cried out. Savvi and Corrine reluctantly did the same.

Everyone except Michelle, Patricia, and Ella were now wincing as they walked steadily over the sharp glass.

Michelle and Ella finally mustered the courage to release themselves but as she did, Ella slipped over some spilt blood and landed in the pool of glass knocking both Savvi and Drake down with her.

"Shit!" Drake seethed, slowly getting to his knees.

**2:00**

Savvi shuddered in pain, the glass piercing her arms and feet. She tried to stand up the glass cutting into the palm of her hands. The others were now struggling to keep their balance and not get cut at the same time.

Still no sign of the key.

Ella was still lying in the glass, moaning in obvious pain. She could feel the shards penetrating her back and didn't have the strength to even try to move.

Patricia was still trapped against the wall, tears streaming down her face.

**1:50**

Drake was thrashing about wildly through the shards while Connor had willingly thrown himself to the piercing floor to do the same.

Sydney's eyes were darting back and forth and only she noticed Patricia. "Aren't you going to help? We've got less than two minutes left!"

Patricia bit her lip. "I-I can't do it."

"AGH!" Ella was digging through the glass furiously, the numbness from the pain taking over her.

Blood was everywhere and everyone had also resorted to digging through the glass. Shrieks of pain filled the air as the shards sliced through everyone's skin. Blood flowed and flowed…

**1:30**

Patricia's long black hair whipped around her face as she stared at everyone around her. She had to do it.

_Just brace yourself_

Patricia pulled down and the spikes were jerked from her wrists. She clutched instinctively to stop the pain and bleeding and slipped as well.

She landed face first.

Patricia choked out a loud sob that echoed through the room. The glass felt as if someone was repeatedly stabbing her in the face.

Stab. Stab. Stab.

**1:00**

Dan crawled cautiously through the knife-like fragments of crystal and flinched when even more glass slit his ankles. Then he saw it. Only because the light had just managed to hit it at that moment, because he by chance had looked to his left. But he had seen the key, lying among the shards. Dan reached for the key and smiled dazedly when he gripped it in his hand. "Hey guys I found it! I found the-"

Conner's fist intersected with Dan's face and he was shoved to the side, the key dropping from his hand. Conner swiped it and smiled devilishly.

"Finder's keepers." He crooned.

Suddenly, Lenard snuck up behind him and thrust a shard of glass right through Conner's neck.

"Loser's weepers." He growled.

Conner gripped his neck and gurgled, even more blood slipping through his fingers. He swayed sideways and dropped to the floor.

**0:30**

Lenard got to his feet, painfully, and limped towards the door. He stopped and looked back. "Well? Is anyone coming with?"

Drake and Savvi rushed forward, glass flying behind them. Lance and Chloe helped Dan up and also headed for the door, struggling to ignore the scraping sensation under their feet.

**0:20**

"Hurry!" Corrine shouted, spotting Patricia and Ella on the floor. Michelle had managed to make her way to the door, with the wall as her support.

Patricia and Ella were on their feet and were being supported by Corrine. Sydney staggered towards the door when suddenly Conner grabbed her leg. "If I'm going down you're going down with me bitch!"

Sydney tried to pull away but she could feel her body slipping over the crystals…

**0:10**

"Gah!" Patricia kicked Conner's face in and grabbed for Sydney's arm.

The four girls limped to the door, seconds before it slammed closed. The last thing they saw had been Conner's terrified face, blood gushing from his neck…

**Author's Note: And there goes the first victim, Conner Granger. Sorry! Well even if the trap did suck hopefully I portrayed your characters correctly. All characters will be getting more screen time soon now that they have all been introduced. Since most people voted for the nerve gas house that's where the setting is taking place. Yes the victims are all in the infamous house itself which means that eventually they'll stumble into the bathroom. Now you can all start requesting some traps from the movies if you want and I'll TRY to include them. But it must be a trap that can be used in this setting. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	4. Questions?

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Remember you can still request traps from the movies as long as they fit in with the setting. Thanks to Oggytheogre321 for helping me out with the ever so terrible Writer's Block. You rock! Enjoy everyone!**

Hoffman slid further into the dark corner at the far end of the bus. Pulling his recently purchased baseball cap down, he tried to make himself look inconspicuous. As inconspicuous as a man with a large scar extending from his cheek to his jaw could be.

Jill Tuck had turned him in.

The police had knocked on his door mere hours ago, warrant In hand and he had escaped by use of the fire escape and was now on the run. And he still had no idea where she was. He had checked all witness protection programs through the hacking of a police site but no such luck. All he had managed to find out was that she had turned him in provided she was given full immunity in return. She hadn't asked for any further help apparently someone else was providing her with protection. If he found that person he would find Jill and she would be sorry.

The bus came to a stop a couple of blocks away from his private workshop. Hoffman hopped off, his head down, and briskly walked the dark empty streets.

Where could she be? With John and Art gone she couldn't possibly have any viable friends left, her junkie patients obviously wouldn't be much help. Who was helping her?

_When's your test, Detective?_

Hoffman whipped his head around at the voice. There was no one there. He continued walking.

_Test. Test. Test._

_When's your test, Detective?_

Hoffman jumped at the sound of a gunshot ringing in the air. He grabbed his own gun and warily searched the streets. No one in sight.

What was wrong with him? Was the stress causing him to hear things now? And that voice…where had he heard it before?

No, it was just his imagination. As he opened the door to the creaky warehouse located behind an assortment of abandoned buildings, he could've sworn he saw a mane of long brown hair disappear behind the door…

* * *

The 12 subjects lay on the floor, panting and trying to erase the recent scene out of their minds.

Young Michelle was in the corner of the hallway whimpering and muttering to herself. She like most others was clutching her wrist.

Drake Aaron glanced her way and despite himself took pity on her.

"Are you okay there?"

Michelle's dark eyes watered and she shielded herself behind her black hair. "No…why did my parents create me? Why did this happen to me?" she wept, her voice muffled.

Savvi, who had been carefully picking at the glass on her bleeding feet, scoffed. "Hey if you haven't noticed yet you're not the only one in this situation so quit your whining."

"There was no need for that!" Chloe snapped.

"Well gee I just barely escaped with my life from a trap room where we left behind a guy to bleed out and die so forgive me if I'm a little bit irritable." Savvi retorted.

This caused a tense silence.

"You know," Lance began green eyes looking at Lenard "there was no need for that."

"He was going to leave the rest of us behind," Lenard grunted. It was obvious from his appearance that he was the oldest one there, in his mid-forties. "It was survival of the fittest. Besides, the man deserved to die he was a serial rapist."

Everyone was surprised.

"Really? I've never heard of him," Sydney commented. "How did you know?"

Lenard gripped his wrist and stared down at it as he responded. "There is certain tell-tale signs a person can give off that show their true self. This man was no good I can tell you that much he was brutal and cruel. It was for the best that we left him behind."

Oliver cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Okay…well I'm going to start exploring, we need to get out of this hell. Maybe if I'm lucky I'll find some vodka. I could sure use a drink…" and with that he strode off the hood of his brown hoodie up.

Sydney rolled her eyes. "So…what if we really can't get out? This house looks like a fortress so far."

Ella stood up from the floor leaving behind a small puddle of blood. "There has to be a way out. All of Jigsaw's traps are escapable except for the ones that Amanda Young constructed."

"How do we know Amanda Young didn't stick us in here?" Lance asked.

"Well first of all Amanda's been dead for months. Secondly, if this is the same place I'm thinking of, subjects have been tested here before and two of them managed to escape. Daniel Matthews and Amanda herself. There has to be a way out." She explained.

"How does this Jigsaw guy or whoever has taken his place know that we won't just sit around and wait for someone to rescue us? How do they know we'll play the game?" Drake pointed out.

"Easy, we all want to live right? Well if we wait around for help we'll eventually bleed out from our wrists. If we play the game and follow the rules we'll be able to escape somehow before we bleed out." Ella shrugged.

Patricia, who had been sitting in a corner quietly up until this point, spoke up.

"You sure seem to know a lot about the way this guy works."

Ella sniffed. "This guy killed my brother. A little research on the enemy never hurt anyone."

Patricia turned and asked to no one in particular, "How much time do you think we have left before we bleed out?"

Lenard answered. "Well Patricia-"

"Call me Trish, please." She cut in sharply.

Lenard raised an eyebrow and continued "Well Trish, since there was no terrible damage to any major arteries I would predict we have about 2 hours left maybe 3."

"Dude no offense but the stuff you know is creepy." Dan remarked.

Lenard gave him a sarcastic smile.

"Hey guys look what I found!" Oliver called out from another room.

Corrine, Lenard, Trish, Drake, Ella, and Savvi made their way over to him.

Oliver was standing outside a dirty door with red paint spelling out 'EXIT' and a sort of keyboard with a screen attached to it. Oliver held a tape recorder in his hand.

Without saying a word he pressed play.

_Ah so close yet so far is your escape, is it not? Know that I was not deceiving you all when I told you that you must find the connections amongst yourselves. It is your key to survival. Scattered among this house are clues to these connections after you have found them all several questions will be asked of you on the keypad below. You must answer them all correctly in order for the door to unlock. Time is running short._

The tape clicked off.

Oliver held up a scrap of paper where someone had written 'Harvard' in black ink. "The first question on the screen is 'who cost who an education' and there are two lines for answers." He informed them.

Savvi stared at the paper. "Have any of you gone to Harvard?"

Trish looked away sheepishly. "I applied but I didn't get in." she admitted.

"Why not?" Drake questioned bluntly.

"I was passed up for another family who had more connections and money. I was apparently too much of a 'financial burden' to the school."

"Whatever happened to the days when intelligence counted?" Lenard sighed, shaking his head.

Corrine was averting her eyes from the rest of them.

"Holy crap!" a voice rang out from the other room.

The seven of them scurried over and gasped.

**Author's Note: Oooh what's in store for the subjects now? Is Hoffman going insane? Will the group learn to work together in order to survive or will they die trying? Will I stop asking annoying questions anytime soon? Tune in next time on Live Or Die Make Your Choice (sorry I've been watching too much Total Drama Island recently) thanks for reading!**


	5. Lawrence Gordon

**Author's Note: First things first, thanks for the reviews! Now I did watch Saw 3D but I won't be following much of the pattern of it because frankly it was a disappointment so yes that means-SPOILER DON'T READ NEXT LINE IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE MOVIE-that I WON'T be making Dr. Gordon an apprentice, mostly because I always had the vision of it being just Amanda, Hoffman, and Jiggy and because well Gordon being an apprentice sucks. END OF SPOILER- The little 'twist' in the Jill section will be explained in the next chapter. Anyways, enough rambling read on and enjoy!**

"Room 23, miss." The young bellhop informed Jill.

She nodded thanks and rubbed her eyes as her reverberating footsteps contrasted against the quietness of the hotel. Unable to withstand the paranoia, Jill had gotten in her car and had taken the long trip to the Fairbanks Hotel in search of Dr. Gordon. That had of course resulted in her being deprived of sleep but if it helped save her live so be it.

Gordon's survival, like Hoffman's, had been the talk of the media. He was the most talked about survivor to this point as the others had favored to just disappear into the shadows, afraid to attract any unwanted attention. She knew that Gordon was the one to go to; any man who could saw off his foot for his family was a hero in her opinion. He could help her. And if he refused, she would chase down every other survivor if she needed to. She wouldn't give Hoffman the satisfaction of seeing her at her most vulnerable; all alone without John. She wasn't just the poor gullible wife of a 'raving serial killer'. She wasn't some discarded trophy on John's pedestal. She was more than that.

Jill rapped on the door. Moments later it opened to reveal Dr. Lawrence Gordon. His face was worn and tired and yet at the sight of her, his blue eyes crinkled and the corners of his mouth curled into a smile.

"Ah, Jill. What a pleasure to see you," he moved away from the door and held out his arm. "Please, come in."

Jill forced a smile and stepped inside. The room was small but cozy. There were papers scattered all over the messy bed as well as photos. As if sensing her curiosity his smile widened. "I'll explain later. Please sit." He motioned at the cleared edge of the bed.

Jill sat down comfortably and eyed Lawrence inquisitively. "You're being awfully kind to the wife of the man who locked you up in an ancient bathroom and made you go through hell." She commented.

Lawrence sighed. "As much as I hate to admit it I did learn _something_ from John's game. I have to be more compassionate towards others, more understanding. Besides, I doubt you had anything to do with this…right?" His intense eyes burned into hers.

Jill wasn't sure how to answer this. She of course had known about John's games but she had never partaken in them nor had she interfered-until the reading of his will. Testing Hoffman had been her only involvement in the games.

And so she went with a safe answer. "You could say that."

Thankfully, he didn't push it.

"Well, what can I do for you?" he asked.

Jill bit her lip. "Have you heard of Detective Hoffman's role in the games?"

Lawrence suddenly frowned. "Yes, the traitorous bastard. His whole department was taken out because of him and who gets all the glory? Who gets the awards and ceremonies? The one behind it all."

He gripped the edge of the bed in anger. Jill wasn't sure whether to take this as a good sign or not.

"Well…that trap that he escaped…John asked me to put him in it. He was meant to die but he escaped and now he's after me."

Lawrence was taken aback. "I thought you said you weren't a part of the games."

"I never said that."

He stood up angrily, stumbling over his prosthetic foot. "Get out," he pointed at the door.

Jill got to her feet and yanked the key around her neck off. It was the key that had helped her test Hoffman; it was what had sealed her fate. "I had _nothing_ to do with this. Yes, I did know about John's games but I was never involved with them. I only tested Hoffman something which I thought you would appreciate."

Lawrence laughed coldly. "You knew about this and yet you did nothing to stop it. And now that you're the victim you just expect everyone else to help at the snap of your fingers."

"Of course I didn't do anything to stop it! John was my husband-"

"-Ex husband,"

"You just don't forget about someone who had an impact of your life so easily! Maybe I did make a mistake by not saying anything but I did it because I truly believed that he was helping others! Obviously not in the best of ways but he was making a difference! He changed you!" Jill cried, on the verge of tears.

Lawrence lowered his arm and his breathing slowed down. After a few minutes of silence he spoke up, "Do you support John's ways?"

"I-"

"Do you?"

"I don't support his tactics if that's what you mean." She answered icily.

Lawrence regarded her for a moment longer. "Do you want to take Hoffman down? Do you want to stop the 'Jigsaw' killings?"

Jill curled her fists. "Yes."

"Would you be willing to disregard you late husband's 'legacy'?"

"John's already left behind a legacy in case you haven't noticed. You're an example," she glanced at his fake foot.

Lawrence narrowed his eyes-then smirked. He turned and grabbed his cane. Limping towards the door he looked back at her. "Coming?"

She didn't even bother asking and just followed.

Eventually they reached the empty lobby and Lawrence stopped outside the only lit room. Jill could hear low voices murmuring.

She shot Lawrence a bewildered look. He remained expressionless as he knocked softly. The voices shushed and Gordon called out, "Its okay it's just me. I've brought another one."

Questions raced through Jill's mind as he turned the thin handle on the door. They stepped inside a dimly lit room in which several people were seated in folding chairs in a circle.

These people…she recognized them. They were all survivors of John's games.

They all stared at her curiously and she did the same while racking her brain for their names. Daniel Matthews, Brit Steddison, and in the far corner of the room, unbeknowst to Jill, Adam Faulkner.

* * *

Oliver, Corrine, Trish, Lenard, Drake, Ella, and Savvi hurried into a different hallway than before to see the rest of the group gathered around a door. It, like the exit, was splattered in red paint that spelled out, 'Your Next Move Is Critical. Listening Is Key.'

There were muffled screams coming from inside.

"Should we go in?" Dan asked nervously.

"We're bleeding out here, what choice do we have?" Chloe pointed out.

Everyone was reluctant to go forward. Savvi sucked in a breath and pushed the door open.

All 12 of them gasped simultaneously.

In the center of the room there was a surgical table with a young woman strapped to it. Her wrists were cuffed with what seemed to be the pressure cuffs while her ankles were bound with duct tape. She was blindfolded and there was a huge pendulum above her.

The woman whipped her head to the side and asked through shaky breaths "W-Who's there? Please help me! W-wait look at the floor!"

They all exchanged confused looks.

"Look at the floor!"

They did as asked and no one spotted anything-until Trish noticed a barely noticeable tripwire underneath the doorway. "Don't go throu-"

But it was too late as one of them walked through the doorway and unknowingly activated two things; the shotguns above the doorway fired downwards as the pendulum began to swing.

**Author's Note: Ouch what poor unfortunate soul just met their end and who is this mysterious woman? Now that I've got the overall plot down as well as the 'connections' that will be featured in the story, I should be able to update more frequently. Thanks for reading!**


	6. Listening Is Key

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Ignore the strange stupid trap and enjoy!**

"Please Jill take a seat." Lawrence told her.

Bewildered, Jill did as asked and took a seat next to Brit. One of Brit's hands was wrapped in heavy gauze but Jill could make out numerous stitches and scars hidden underneath. Brit caught her looking and gave her a cold glare, dark blue eyes flashing.

Jill cleared her throat and turned away. "Um Lawrence what is this?"

"Funny I was just about to ask him the same thing." Adam spoke up. His voice was gruff and angry.

Jill simply couldn't resist. "Who are you?"

She knew Brit was a victim of 'The Fatal Five Trap' as it was known in the media. Brit and another man by the name of Mallick had escaped after being put through a brutal set of games.

_That explains the hand._

And Daniel Matthews, the troublesome son of the late Detective Eric Matthews. Daniel had been used as bait to test Eric and had therefore been placed in the Nerve Gas House along with the others. He however had presumably never been in any actual danger due to the fact that Amanda Young had been assigned to protect him throughout the duration of the game. That hadn't stopped the news crew from flocking the outside of his hospital room the day he was released though, Jill remembered with a wry smile.

But this other man had never been on the news. He had never been reported as a victim. What was he doing here?

"What, your ex didn't tell you how he threw me into the bathroom along with Lawrence? How I was shot and left behind to die? How I almost died of starvation and dehydration?" he spat angrily.

Jill was surprised. She had never heard of there being another victim from the Bathroom Trap…at least Lawrence had never mentioned there being one.

"But-"

"His name is Adam Faulkner," Lawrence interceded. "He was indeed with me in that foul place but after I managed to escape I was forced to leave him behind, at least until I got some medical attention. But as you probably know by know I fell into a coma a few hours later. When I came to, Adam was there. Amanda Young had let him out of the bathroom and he had tracked me down."

Jill gaped at Adam. "A-Amanda let you go? But John never mentioned-"

"John never knew," Adam interrupted. "Amanda came to the bathroom and attempted to mercy kill me. She couldn't go through with it though and the next thing I know I was freed from my shackle, drugged, and left in a nearby hospital. She visited me at the hospital a couple of times but refused to tell me anything. It was obvious from the way she acted when she freed me that John didn't know anything and she didn't want him to. And so that's why Lawrence and I agreed to not let anyone know I had been in the bathroom with him, we couldn't risk another Jigsaw capture." He explained his eyes glazed as he thought back.

Jill exhaled slowly. "Wow…that's a lot to take in." The killer of her baby and John's most trusted student had betrayed him in order to save a life. How about that.

"So wait everyone in this room is a survivor then, am I correct?" she verified.

Lawrence nodded. "In our own different ways, yes we are. There are others naturally but they didn't want to risk anymore unwanted attention and therefore didn't join us here tonight. We're the only ones willing to put our lives on the line as to stop this chaos. And I'd like for you to join us."

Jill cocked an eyebrow. They were all so young-except for Lawrence of course although he wasn't that bad off- and had all had their lives affected drastically by John in some way. They all used to have real lives that they were now willing to risk. Even Lawrence who had gone through hell and back for his family was now risking it all.

"But what about your lives?" she pointed out. "Lawrence, you can't just leave behind your family for this."

"I'm afraid they already beat me to it. Allison divorced me and took Diana to god knows where." He admitted rather sadly.

Jill blushed. "Oh. Well what makes you think everyone else in this 'group' would be so accepting of me? I am after all the wife of the man who caused their misery."

"We're all here for the same reason aren't we? You want to stop Hoffman and so do the rest of us. It only seems logical that you'd join us." He told her.

Brit shrugged. "As long as you don't turn out to be some backstabbing bitch I'm fine with it. We need all the help we can get."

"Same here." Daniel piped up. He looked older and more worn, his blue eyes once bright were dim with sadness and the smile that had been plastered all over the city on missing posters was replaced with an intangible frown. He had seen more than a guy his age should've and it had matured him greatly. Jill couldn't help but feel a pang in her heart as she thought this over.

Adam was the only one who was reluctant. "Why should we trust her? She was Jigsaw's goddamn wife."

"And Amanda was his apprentice." She shot back.

That shut him up for the rest of the night.

* * *

Screams erupted in the room as Michelle's small body collapsed to the floor, half of her face blown away by the shotguns.

Trish backed out of the room, jumping out of her skin, blood splattered all over her clothes. Sydney was running a shaky hand through her burgundy hair whispering "shit, shit, shit, shit!"

No one seemed to remember the fact that the pendulum had begun its deadly cycle and that the unknown woman was screaming her lungs out. They were all too focused on the corpse of the poor thirteen year old girl at their feet, her face caked in gore and blood, unrecognizable.

"Please! Please help me! Please!" the woman screamed.

Drake Aaron groaned and looked away as he slipped off his jean jacket and threw it over Michelle's head. He then jumped over her body along with some of the others and got a good look at the room.

There were dozens of different colored ropes, all attached to the pendulum in a pulley system on each side of the walls.

"W-what are we supposed to do?" Chloe cried out.

"P-pull the red one!" the woman shouted throatily. She continued struggling on the table, trying to pull her wrists free as well as her ankles.

Corrine hurried to her side and ripped off the duct tape from her ankles. She started to move on to the pressure cuffs when she realized that they weren't the same kinds of brace. These wouldn't come off if you pulled away; they would only unlock when a key was used.

"Damn it!" she seethed.

"But there's a load of red ropes!" Oliver yelled.

_Swing, Swing_

"The one on the right!" the woman wailed.

"Which right?" Lance demanded angrily. He clearly wasn't the patient type.

"Oh to hell with this!" Savvi roared. She raced towards the nearest red rope and pulled it down harshly.

The pendulum instantly dropped even lower, just inches away from the woman.

"NO! NO! THE RED ROPE! THE RIGHT RED ROPE! PLEASE!" She sobbed in agony.

_Swing, Swing_

"But there are four red ropes to the right of both walls! Which one is it?" Ella barked in frustration.

_Swing, Swing_

"Can't we just pull all four of them until something happens?" Dan suggested.

"No you idiot! That will just speed up the pendulum!" Sydney answered.

_Swing, Swing_

"PLEASE!"

The pendulum was now but an inch away from the woman's abdomen.

"MOVE!" Lenard roared. He pushed them all away and dashed to the right wall and pulled on the farthest right red rope…

The pendulum stopped dead in its tracks.

A key fell from above it and dropped to the floor. Corrine snatched it and immediately began unlocking the woman's braces. It seemed as if Jigsaw had pulled another trick for when the braces unlocked, spikes were protruding from her wrists. The woman eagerly ripped her wrists away, still blindfolded, and then roared in agony as the bleeding commenced.

Corrine gently took off her blind fold and helped the woman up. "What's your name?"

"R-Reyna Lawson. W-what is this why am I here?" she cried desperately, her blue eyes welling up with tears and staining her pale face. She was shaking uncontrollably; the shock of what she had just endured finally hitting her.

"Do you have any idea who brought you here?" Chloe questioned.

Reyna shook her head and her messy black hair flew behind her. "N-no. All I remember was a deep voice whispering out instructions to me repeatedly. Then it all went black and I woke up, blinded. W-where am I?"

"If only we knew." Drake replied, breathing heavily.

Reyna suddenly remembered something and she frantically picked at her clothing until she felt a crumpled paper in her pocket. She pulled it out and shakily handed it to Corrine. "H-he told me about this note. He was l-laughing telling me that I would need it if I made it out…alive…" She hung her head and continued crying as Corrine unfolded the scrap.

It read out 'Nottingham Drug-Dealer'. Corrine narrowed her eyes in suspicion. A part of the puzzle had just been solved.

"What is it?" Lance asked.

"We'll talk about it outside. Let's get the hell out of this room first." Corrine answered.

They all shuffled out purposely trying to avoid Michelle's body but Lenard stayed, observing the pulley system in admiration.

Dan hung back. "Dude, you coming? How did you know what rope to pull by the way?"

Lenard shrugged. "Right wall, right rope."

"But there were two ropes on the right wall."

Lenard smiled. "Lucky guess."

"You mean we just saved that woman's life on the basis of a lucky guess?" Dan said in disbelief.

"Pretty much."

"…Well all right then."

They both walked out and Dan spared one last look at Michelle. Grimacing, he turned away.

**Author's Note: And so with that one person bites the dust and another one joins. R.I.P Michelle Williams. I'm really sorry about her death I just couldn't think of a less...evil way...sorry I must sound like such a bad person! What's this mysterious clue that Corrine has just discovered? Will it bring the others closer to escaping? And what's up with this 'Anti-Jigsaw group'? Only time will tell! The next chapter will have nothing from Jill's point of view or Hoffman's it will be a chapter dedicated to the subject's predicament. Thanks for reading and happy late Thanksgiving!**


	7. Connections

******Author's Note: Sorry for the delay but school is really annoying this year especially with volunteer hours to complete so I won't be updating as frequently as I had expected...but here's a chapter for you all to enjoy! Thanks for the reviews!**

Savvi gasped in utter surprise as Corrine, one of the seemingly goodie goodies of the group, pinned her against the wall outside in the hallway.

"Start talking NOW." She demanded her pretty marina colored eyes, burning with intensity.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Savvi exclaimed, roughly pushing Corrine off of her with her free arm. She patted down her wrinkled smart suit and glared at her. "Well?"

Corrine pulled out the slip of paper and unfolded it, tossing it to Savvi. "Nottingham drug dealer? The name ring any bells?"

Savvi frowned, recognizing her surname. There was also something oddly familiar about the handwriting that she couldn't quite place her finger on…"So what? What does this have to do with anything?"

"We're all here for certain reasons aren't we? If we connect the dots we'll be able to find a way out before we all bleed to death. Now obviously this note has to mean something. Something that only you know." Corrine shot back, hands on her hips.

"I don't have to tell you anything about my life!" Savvi growled. She began to walk away when Drake clutched her wrist and pointed at it with his forefinger. "In case you haven't noticed, our captor didn't leave behind any Barbie band-aids or any medical supplies. We will bleed to death if we can't get out. I don't know about you but I'm not going to stick around and wait for Death to creep up on us. I will do _anything_ to survive and that includes pounding the hell out of you for information."

The threat however empty it may've been due to Drake's and everyone else's current state seemed to work on Savvi. She yanked her wrist away, ignoring the pain, and took a deep breath. "After I was fired from my job, I became a drug dealer and occasionally a user. It was the only thing that supported my shopaholic tendencies. I never could manage money especially after I lost my job. I couldn't find a new one after I was fired because my boss didn't give me the best of recommendations." She admitted.

"Well that explains the note." Chloe reasoned.

"There's more," Savvi said morosely. She pressed a hand to her temple and closed her eyes. "Michelle…was one of my customers."

A series of 'whats' and 'seriouslys' filled the dirty hallway.

"You sold drugs to a thirteen year old?"

"What the hell is the matter with you?"

"Hey!" Savvi cried. "I had to find some way to make a living! I never really cared for my customers, the only reason I recognized Michelle was because…because she was so young." There was the slightest hint of remorse in her words. Then she sucked in some air, refusing to let anything get to her, and pulled out her next surprise. "Michelle wasn't the only one," she stared at Dan. "Mr. Miller here has been holding out on us."

Dan was taken aback. "Y-you're my dealer?"

Savvi smirked, glad that the unwanted attention was no longer trained on her. "It's hard to miss hair like yours." She said, referring to his shaggy bushy brown hair. Besides his generally confused personality it was the most stand out thing about him.

"But I don't remember-"

"Of course you wouldn't remember you're a worthless pot addict."

"He has a point though," Chloe interrupted. "How is it that you remember both him and Michelle and they don't recognize you at all?"

Savvi frowned. "Well I don't exactly go around the street wearing a clown suit advertising the stuff. I only do deals at certain points in a day, usually after midnight and I never show my face…I have a reputation to maintain."

Lance scoffed. "Some reputation. A raging shopaholic with money management issues who can't hold a job and gets her kicks out of selling pot to a bunch of kids."

Savvi attempted to jump at him but was held back by Drake and Oliver.

"This isn't going to resolve anything!" Corrine yelled.

Savvi freed herself from their grip and kneeled down and began ripping the bottom of her pants leg. "Oh please, save the martyr speech for someone who cares. You're not so innocent in all of this either you know."

Corrine scowled. "What are you talking about?"

Savvi rolled her eyes as she tightly secured the scrap of clothing around her wrists, taking note of Lenard who had done the same not too long ago. "You're the Harvard brat aren't you? Yeah, you've got that pampered rich look about you. You came from money didn't you? If I had to guess it was _you_ who took Trish's education away, like the keypad so nicely put it."

Corrine was stunned but she recovered her wits. "You have no proof."

Savvi smiled. "Now who's holding back?"

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous." Sydney piped up. "If you have something to own up to just get it over with already. What do we have to lose at this point?"

Corrine stared at the floor as she spoke, "My dad is…Richard McDowell."

Once again there were the usual surprised looks.

"_The _Richard McDowell?" Ella verified. "Corporate America entrepreneur? Stock market whiz? Leader of-"

"A mafia ring." Corrine said begrudgingly. "That's how he seals all his deals and gets everything he wants. He's like the godfather of modern today. He's always provided me with what I've wanted even if I haven't asked for it but he can take it way too far sometimes. I applied for Harvard but didn't get in. Then he, without my consent, greased some palms and did some convincing on his part and got me in. But they had to let another student go," she glanced at Trish who had been listening intently all along, the anger more than evident on her face. "I guess that student was you."

"You mean I lost out on my scholarship to Harvard, a chance to make something out of myself, because your daddy bribed the school?" she seethed.

"I didn't mean to-"

"And I'm sure that that reindeer didn't mean to knock over Grandma but that didn't change anything now did it?"

"Look, after I found out what my father did I stopped speaking to him. I don't want to be part of any of his shady business deals anymore. I'm sorry if it affected you but I can't do anything about it now." Corrine said sincerely.

Trish gave her a death glare and stomped away. Ella groaned and looked at Oliver expectantly. "Well?"

"Well what?" he snapped.

"Aren't you going to go after her?"

"Why me?"

"You're the closest to the end of the hall."

After muttering a few choice words he stalked off.

"Well this has certainly been eventful." Lenard remarked.

"We're not in the mood for your sarcasm." Ella snarled.

"I was merely stating a fact."

"Well how about you keep your comments to yourself from now on?"

"Excuse me, but I believe that my 'comments' have saved more than a few lives today. And I don't need a binge drinker telling me what to do."

"You son of a –"

"Drop it." Reyna spoke up. Her voice was hollow and emotionless and there was a somewhat noticeable change in her. She wasn't freaked out anymore she was in a way eerily calm as if she didn't give a crap anymore. She still looked fragile though in her sweet girl cello concert outfit with the dark shadows under her eyes standing out. "We've already got some connections figured out, right? Why don't we go and try them out on the keypad and then talk out the rest?" she suggested.

"You guys do whatever you want but I'm not going to sit around hearing you all pour you hearts out for no reason. I'm going to find clues on my own." Savvi told them. And with that she also walked off.

Sydney shook her head. "Really?" she sighed. "I guess someone should go after her too."

"Why? We already know her connections; we don't need her anymore." Lance pointed out.

"Yeah but she's smart you can't deny that. She can help us out."

"Well if she's so smart she'll be able to find her way back." He countered.

Sydney opened her mouth but was interrupted by Chloe. "Enough!" he shouted. "No amount of arguing is going to help us now. We should take Reyna's suggestion and get back to the exit door. If Savvi wants to she'll catch up with us later."

Everyone silently agreed and began the walk back to the main hall. Ella followed but looked up at the ceiling with sad eyes. "God, Adam…I need you so much right now." She gripped her stinging and wet wrist and continued after the others.

**Author's Note: So, several connections have just been brought up to the surface which left both Savvi and Trish angry to the point that they separated themselves from the group. And you all know what happens in horror movies when people decide to go off on their own..xD I'll be keeping a little list for you all to keep track of the connections that have been discovered so that you won't be confused or anything. If I don't get to update before then, Happy Holidays!**

**Connections:**

**Savvi, Michelle, and Dan- 3**

**Corrine and Trish- 2**

**How many left: 9**


	8. Revelations

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Okay, so with it being so close to Christmas (awesome) it didn't feel right to kill someone off in this chapter, I do have some morales (don't roll your eyes Patty) and so we will leave that to the next chapter. BUT there are some slight revelations in this chapter as well as an unexpected capture. Now to those who won't bother with reading the author's note at the bottom, Happy Holidays and to all a good night!**

_Get used to me because I'm not going anywhere_

_You sure about that?_

Hoffman shot up in his seat, panting. That voice. He recognized it now. It was one of the many voices that haunted him in his sleep. The somewhat raspy voice full of emotion kept replaying in his head even as he shook it. And that's when he saw it. A shadowy figure to the near end of the wall was floating away, her long brown hair flying behind her…

His cell phone rang rather loudly.

Hoffman blinked and when he looked back, the figure was no longer there. His eyes stayed rooted to the spot, nervously, as he answered the phone.

"Yeah what is it?"

"William Dimarco?"

He almost hung up when he remembered the alias that he had been using to retrieve information.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry to inform you but I couldn't get a hold of Dr. Gordon for you. He's out on a business trip."

Bingo.

"Do you want me to relay a message?"

"No thank you. I have everything I need." Hoffman snapped his cell phone shut, a smirk spreading across his face. The good old doctor just happened to be out on a business call at around the same time that Jill had disappeared. Coincidence? He didn't think so. Either way it was a lead worth following…especially since it was his only one.

Hoffman stuffed his newly loaded gun in its holster and shut off the monitors, having already watched the subjects for over half an hour. He grabbed his wallet from the desk and stopped as his eyes fell upon a photograph of him and his sister, Angelina Hoffman, in a tight embrace. He recalled the scene perfectly in his head with a sad smile.

He had been rewarded with one of his various prestigious police awards and she had been there by his side, her beautiful face glowing with a proud smile. He had been at ease back then having nowhere near the amount of weight he now had on his shoulders. He had been happy.

Hoffman's face darkened.

But those days were long over.

Angelina was dead, brutally killed by her then boyfriend, Seth Baxter. But he had paid Seth back. He had avenged his sister's murder. He had placed Seth in the same trap as Reyna one of the subjects had recently escaped. Except, there had been no pulley system, no key, and no group of willing helpers. Just a pendulum and no chance of survival.

Of course that unfortunate but necessary incident had been accompanied by the remorse package every now and then but he had to do it. Seth Baxter had taken away his sister, his only family. He had turned his world upside down. Because of him, he had become who he was today, an empty man consumed with revenge. He had merely returned the fucking favor.

Hoffman shook his head regretfully and turned away from the painful memories. His ears perked up at the faraway sound of a wheelchair scraping against the floor, gliding as it held its passenger who was breathing shallowly into an oxygen mask…

_God I need a Prozac._

* * *

Most of the group huddled around the automated keypad. Sydney hesitantly typed in 'Corrine' and then 'Patricia' to the 'who cost who an education' question. Everyone held their breath.

There was a slight *bloop bloop* and the screen switched to a positive green screen. Everyone let out sighs of relief. The next question dealt with the drug dealer and her customers. A couple of words later and the next question had popped up. 'Who killed whose brother?'

Sydney immediately stiffened. Her bother had disappeared months ago. It had become somewhat of an obsession of hers to find him and she couldn't bear the thought of him being dead…it just couldn't be. Someone else here had to have a brother. It could not be hers.

"Any brothers?" she asked tensile.

Chloe nodded sadly. "As far as I know he's still in jail, thankfully. If anything were to happen to him I don't know what I would do with myself…" he trailed off.

Sydney had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Anyone else?" she asked a bit too hopefully.

They all shook their heads. Ella didn't say anything, not wanting to repeat her brother's predicament but it didn't matter. Adam had been taken by Jigsaw, his fate had nothing to do with the others in this house.

_Okay, no problem. There's still Savvi, Oliver, and Trish. Of course, Savvi and Trish already have their connections…but no there's still Oliver. Yeah Oliver. He looks like the brotherly type. Oliver._

Despite her reassurances the terrible feeling wouldn't pass away. And so she took the direct approach. "Okay, well the question also refers to someone _killing_ this person's brother. Any murderers?"

There were many flickering eyes and clearing throats. The floor suddenly seemed very interesting to some. Sydney scoffed. "Fine you want to play it this way? We've already been here for what, an hour? We're _dying_ and if none of you wants to step up and confess we're going to have to go through hell and back to find clues."

Still no one spoke.

Sydney could feel the anger bubbling inside her. "Fine," she spat. "But count me out of this group. You're all a bunch of worthless cowards." She walked away trembling in both anger and unbeknownst to the other except perhaps Lenard, fear.

Lance groaned. "Okay, let's get back to clue-hunting."

"Maybe we should split up for a bit and cover more ground. There are an awful lot of us." Ella suggested.

At this point, most could care less and they all separated into groups some in two's and three's others in four's and others by themselves. But all vulnerable and growing evermore weak in the fortress of a house.

* * *

Savvi walked aimlessly through the narrow hallways of the big house. She kept noticing misplaced portraits and vents every here and then but she paid them no real mind. The house was a complete hell hole, one that she had to get out of. The others were probably back at the main entrance discussing plans and ideas which would all prove fruitless in the end. She could do this on her own, she didn't need anyone else.

Savvi unconsciously noticed how cold her wrist had become along with part of her body. She shook off the thought of blood loss. There was still time, she told herself. She would make it out. Eventually, she reached the end of the hall and came to a dirty scraped door. Skeptically, she pressed her ear to the door. There was no sound. Taking this as a good sign she turned the knob and opened the door. Suddenly, a masked figure leapt out of the room and stabbed her in the chest with a hypodermic needle. Savvi instantly passed out and was dragged inside by the pig masked person.

* * *

Oliver found Trish crouching next to a dilapidated couch, holding her wrist out and sobbing. He rolled his eyes; he had never been good at this 'comforting crap'. The best he could do was a weak pat on the back and an emotionless 'there, there'. He cautiously got to his knees besides her.

"Hey come on, the group needs you."

Trish looked up, her purple eyes wet. "Cut the crap. You already know my connection; none of you need me anymore. Who could possibly need cowardly Trish? Besides, I'm not going anywhere near Corrine." She said resentfully.

"Technically, it wasn't her fault. It was her fathers." He pointed out.

"She could've stopped him!" she cried. "She could've interfered but she didn't do anything and I was left behind in the same little town I've lived in for my entire life destined for isolation and dozens of cats."

Oliver laughed. "Look we've all got baggage. We've all made mistakes but we can try and bounce back from them. Feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to do you any good."

Trish eyed him curiously. "Oh yeah? What's your story?"

Oliver had seen this coming eventually but it still managed to catch him off-guard. He held up his finger and pointed at a noticeable scar on his cheek. "See this? I got it in one of my drunken rages. I shattered a glass coffee-table and then slipped on it. Very classy I know that first trap was major déjà vu for me. One day when I was in one of my drunken rages I…I killed my girlfriend Janice and our child."

Trish gaped at him. Oliver wasn't by any chance the nicest guy around but he didn't strike her as murderer.

"W-what happened after that?"

"I did a couple of years and then some in rehab. Community service the works. But I never got over what I did. I've never been able to hold a decent job after that and I've never gotten rid of my drinking problem. In fact, I think it got worse." He explained dismally.

Trish saw his discomfort and decided to somehow steer away from the conversation. "So w-why did you start drinking in the first place?" she asked, in hopes of hearing some exciting college story.

Oliver's face however was overcome with anger. "I had this really great job opportunity going for me and I was really close to getting it but…this guy just swooped in and took it. My guess is that he intimidated the big bosses or something because that job had been as good as mine. Either way I fell into a deep depression and lost it."

Trish opened her mouth prepared to say something comforting when they heard a loud scream coming from the hallway.

**Author's Note: Gasp! A mysterious figure wearing a pig mask has just captured Savvi. Say it ain't so! Could it be Hoffman? No, that wouldn't make sense...or would it? Maybe one of the subjects themselves. Or maybe even an Anti-Jigsaw member gone bad? We'll just have to see now won't we? One little thing I might add on the timeframe of this story, it's all happening roughly around the same time maybe some events a mere minutes before or after. Hopefully, it's not too confusing. And to whoever figured out what Hoffman is 'seeing' congrats!Thanks for reading! And Happy Holidays to everyone! Enjoy the New Year! **


	9. Decisions

**Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait! But in return is a relatively long chapter! Thanks for the reviews and enjoy!**

"We need bait."

"But how are we supposed to get in touch with the guy when we have the bait?"

"And what guarantees are there that he'll listen? This is Hoffman we're talking about."

Jill listened to the heated discussions with little emotion, sleep threatening to consume her. She wasn't sure where she fit in or if her ideas had the right to be heard. After all, it's was partly her fault that everyone in the room was under such circumstances. Maybe it would be better for all of them if she just kept her mouth shut.

Lawrence limped into the room, cellphone in hand. He snapped it shut and was helped into his seat next to her by Adam. "The police just got a video message from Hoffman a few minutes ago. He's demanding that they turn you in Jill."

She shuddered, fear running down her spine. She had known all along of course that Hoffman would come after her but this kind of reassurance made it all the more real. "Does he think I'm in their custody?" she asked.

Lawrence shrugged. "He didn't say. I think he just figured that the message would find it's way to you at some point or another."

"Can't the police track the I.P address?" Daniel suggested.

The worn doctor shook his head. "They're working on it but need I remind you of the last time they tried tracking down a video feed?"

Daniel squirmed in his seat, reliving the dreadful memories. The last time had been when he and a few select others had been captured. Their actions inside the big nerve gas house had apparently been pre-recorded for the police, luring some officers into the wrong abandoned house while his father, Eric, had been led to the right one in an attempt to save his son's life. While all along he had been there in a safe, a mere inches away from him. Ultimately, Eric Matthews had been killed. And all because he had wanted his son safe.

Jill sensed Daniel's discomfort but she clenched her fists and kept to herself. She didn't belong here. It wasn't her place. Instead, Brit lightly patted him on the back along with Adam.

Lawrence cleared his throat. "Yes well, until the police are able to trace the address we have to work on our plans. The guns?"

Brit stood up and reached underneath her chair for a toolbox. Inside was plenty of ammunition to support them all and four pistols. She daintily tossed one each to Adam, Lawrence, and Daniel. She pulled the safety on hers and carefully aimed it at the wall with both hands, testing her strength. Jill couldn't help but notice how much she looked like an action hero. The bad-ass brunette with icy eyes and a killer attitude, she even had the war wounds to prove it.

Daniel was staring at his gun inquisitively. Years of living with a cop had obviously gotten him used to the sight but yet he had never actually held one before.

Adam, on the other hand, was staring at his gun with a mixture of fear and repulsion. "Wow...I never thought I'd lived to see one of these babies again." he laughed nervously. Jill noted that he flexed his shoulder self-consciously.

"Now as for bait..." Lawrence began.

"...me."

Everyone turned towards Jill, even Brit lowered her gun.

"What about you?" Adam spat.

Jill ignored the burn. "I could be the bait."

Again everyone stared. She wasn't sure where this was coming from or if she wanted to go through with it but something inside her urged her to go on.

"I could be the bait that you need to draw Hoffman out. After all, I am what he's looking for."

"But Jill the possible consequences alone-" Lawrence was stopped when Adam held up a hand, eyes on Jill.

"-No, let her go on."

Jill sucked in a breath. "H-Hoffman sent the police department a video right? Well, what if we were to make one? W-we could arrange a meeting. Set a trap, lure him in, and...well that's where you guys come in right?" she nodded at the guns.

The idea began to sink in. "It's not very far-fetched...but Jill you could be risking your life. We all know what Hoffman is capable of and this video will send him right after us." Lawrence said worriedly.

"Isn't that kind of the point?" Brit pointed out.

"Yeah I mean it's now or never right?" Daniel inputted.

"I say we put it to a vote." Adam spoke up. "Everyone who is for Jill being used as bait, raise your hands."

Four hands shot up in the air.

Adam grinned and looked at Lawrence with amusement. "Sorry Larry; Democracy's a bitch."

* * *

Sydney stumbled towards the closed door, sweat trickling down her forehead. She could hear screams and the familiar whirr of machines behind it. Her tall lanky frame shook with fear as she struggled to make a choice. Where were the others? Should she go in?

Another scream erupted from inside.

Sydney swept her burgundy hair back and pushed the door open. The sight that met her eyes was even more hellish than she had expected.

A carousel minus the horses was spinning in the center of the room with Lance and Savvi as their fated passengers. Their hands were bound behind their backs and surrounding their waists was a metallic belt of sorts that was connected to a metal rod that hung before them. A timer was at the far end corner of the room, flashing red, already counting down the time. Below the timer, were two levers one of which held a tape recorder by it's chord.

Sydney slowly made her way over to it, ignoring Savvi and Lance's pleas for help. Her hand was shaking as she pressed play.

_Hello and welcome Lance and Savvi. As you should both know by now, everyone in this house is connected. Now whille there are no distinct connections between the two of you, I can't guarantee the same about your savior. You see, you have both ruined lives. Lives of the others in this house. But now it is time for them to strike back. Now it is time for the lies to stop. There are a pair of levers at the far end of the room. The right one will release you from the metallic belt that is currently locked onto your waists. The left one will cause the metal rod in front of you to snap forward, impaling you. Your only chance of survival is appealing to your savior; telling them the truth. And perhaps they will spare you. Perhaps not. Your savior will have until the timer runs out to decide your fate. Live or die; it's their choice._

The tape clicked off.

**1:30**

"Sydney! Sydney please get me off of this! Please!" Savvi screamed, her terrified face whipping by as the carousel spun on it's deadly course.

"S-Sydney! Please come on! Help me out here!" Lance yelled, wriggling his hands in a pathetic attempt to loosen the binds.

Sydney stood shell-shocked as she observed the contraption. There was no way of releasing them without somehow causing the metal rod to snap forward. The rods were slowly moving forward and from the looks of it, Lance's rod would snap forward first. The first decision was his. The only way out was through the levers.

**1:20**

She immediately headed for the right lever when she realized something; they knew nothing about Lance. Savvi's connection had already been discovered but Lance hadn't been all that eager to share. She would let him go...after she knew what he was in for.

"What are you in for?" she asked calmly, making sure to make eye contact with Lance.

His green eyes narrowed in confusion and anger. "W-what? J-Just get me off! Get me off!"

Sydney closed her eyes and took shallow breaths. "What. Did. You. Do?"

**1:00**

Lance didn't answer and he continued to struggle against the binds, Savvi doing the same.

Sydney felt a pang of anger hit her. Why was it so difficult to answer the damn question. She impulsively let her hand curl around the left lever.

"NO! Please n-no!" Lance sputtered.

"I repeat; why are you here!"

**0:50**

Lance could feel himself growing dizzy. "I-I killed some people."

Sydney felt her face grow hot. "Who?"

**0:45**

"My best friend and my wife," he responded meekly. "I caught them sleeping together and I...just lost it. They had been having an affair for months."

_Oh no. Oh God no. Jake...Jake had been having an affair. It was the last thing we talked about before he disappeared. No. NO._

Her hand shook over the lever. "What was his name?"

Lance was taken by surprise. "W-

"-His name. W-what was it?"

"Jake."

**0:40**

The world melted away, everything becoming cold. Numbness. It couldn't be. This all had to be some kind of joke. A misunderstanding. Anything but he couldn't be dead. Jake couldn't be dead.

**0:30**

The metal rod was now a mere inches away from Lance's face. "Sydney please! Syd-"

"YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED MY BROTHER! YOU FUCKING KILLED HIM!" Her blue eyes flashed with uncontrollable anger and she had to restrain herself from jumping at him.

"H-He was your b-brother? L-Listen Sydney I'm sorry I didn't know-"

"YOU HAD NO RIGHT! YOU HAD NO RIGHT!" She roared, her face turning a violent shade of red.

All those years of waiting and hoping. Ruined. Jake was dead. Killed by the murderous bastard before her.

**0:20**

"I didn't know! He slept with my wife!"

"THAT DIDN'T GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO KILL HIM! IT DIDN'T GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO TAKE HIM FROM ME! HE WAS YOUR FRIEND! HE WAS YOUR FRIEND!" Tears were streaming down her face.

"Ple-"

"MURDERER!" Without thinking, she pulled down hard on the left lever and the metal rod snapped forward, striking him in the forehead.

Blood splattered all over the walls and onto Savvi who shrieked in horror and began hyperventilating. Lance's body slumped forward, blood streaming down his stricken face.

**0:10**

Sydney backed up into the wall, shaking in disbelief. She had killed him. She had killed Lance. She wasn't a murderer. She was violent sure and smoking and drinking were no strangers to her but this was different. She had taken a life.

"SYDNEY!"

She whipped her head over to Savvi who was howling her lungs out. It took her a few seconds to zone in on the problem. Sydney lunged for the right lever but was a second to late.

**0:00**

SNAP

The rod impaled Savvi mercilessly. Her warm blood splashed Sydney who yelped. The metallic belt unlocked itself and Savvi fell to the floor, her eyes becoming glassy.

Sydney leaped to her side. "It's g-going to be okay. Don't worry just hold on." she whispered frantically, running a hand through Savvi's spiky blood soaked hair.

Savvi's hand fell over to her pocket, the other gripping Sydney. "Hand...writing...note..."

Sydney tried to understand.

"Hoffman..."

And with that her grip on Sydney loosened and her breathing ceased.

Conveniently enough, the door swung open to reveal a startled Reyna and Oliver who was holding a fragile looking Trish. As they took in the scene before them, Sydney backed away from Savvi's body, shivering. Reyna staggered over to her, her skin even more pale than usual. "S-Sydney? W-What happened?"

Sydney shook off her comforting arm as she hobbled out the door. Her eyes strayed over to the dead bodies. "I'm sorry..." she cried. "Sorry..."

...Hoffman

**Author's Note: And two more bite the dust. R.I.P Lance and Savvi. Thanks to Zackt2010 for contributing on the carousel trap idea. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Below is the updated list of connections:**

**Connections:**

**Savvi, Michelle, and Dan- 3**

**Corrine and Trish- 2**

**Sydney and Lance- 2**

**How many left: 7**


	10. What!

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! I'm not all that confident in this chapter it was really a spur of the moment thing, I think it came out quite messy to be honest. But either way I hope you somewhat enjoy it. The next chapter I'm thinking of going with a Lost kind of angle in which it focuses on character's backgrounds. Maybe. So yeah off to reading.**

"Sydney, can you please talk to me?" Oliver asked through gritted teeth. Sydney had been staring at the wall in the hallway mumbling to herself for the last ten minutes. And frankly, he was getting a bit tired of playing Mr. Nice Guy.

Sydney suddenly turned towards him, tears shining in her confused eyes. She pushed past him as if he wasn't there and breezed into the torturous room, her sneakers sliding in the blood-stained floor. Oliver watched as she crouched down next to Savvi's body and shakily held out a hand towards the breast pocket of her smart suit. She pulled out a crumpled note just as Reyna and Trish returned from their search of the others.

"No sign of them." Reyna informed them.

"It's a big house." Trish remarked. Her eyes narrowed at a small slip of paper located near the carousel. "W-what's that?"

Sydney, who still bore that strange confused look, turned. She snatched the folded paper and smoothed it out to reveal a photograph. Stepping out of the room, she handed it to Oliver. His eyes grew. It was a picture of Reyna being embraced by two people who appeared to be her parents. Their faces were crossed out with red x's.

Reyna herself quickly yanked the picture from him and took a look herself, her messy black hair all but obscuring her view. She flipped the photograph to find another eerie message scribbled in the back, 'X marks the spot'.

Without a word she stuffed it in her pocket and turned to the corridor and began walking. Oliver and Trish began to follow. "You coming?" he asked Sydney.

"Hoffman..." she murmured, observing the note she had taken from Savvi's pocket. Reyna stopped abruptly and looked at her.

"What did you say?"

"Hoffman. Mark Hoffman. He's the one who put us here."

"Who?" Trish and Oliver asked simultaneously.

Sydney held up the note. "He was a guy I used to date. A police detective. He also must've been Savvi's boss, the one that fired her which would explain how she recongized the handwriting on the clue. It's his handwriting. He wrote it.

"Reyna's face flushed. "W-when did you date him?"

"A couple of years ago even though he was already in a relationship," Sydney admitted rather sheepishly. "It was somewhat of a one-night stand...except it lasted more than one night...wait do you know him?"

Reyna's fists curled at her sides and her gaunt face took a vicious new angle. "You BITCH!"

She pounced at Sydney, her hands reaching for her neck.

* * *

"I'm sorry about your brother." Chloe told Ella empathetically as they stopped to rest a bit in the corridor.

Ella rubbed her neck. "It's okay. It's not as if it was your fault. Things just happen. If you don't mind my asking...what's the deal with your brother?"

Chloe messed with his reddish brown hair a bit before answering. "He took the blame for something I did a while back. I kind of owe my life to the guy." he chuckled weakly and ran his fingers through his arm, passing over the barely visible needle marks.

"Junkie?" Ella asked nonchalantly.

Chloe turned red.

Ella merely laughed. "Hey, I don't judge. Binge-drinker.

Chloe smiled. "Ex-junkie. I'm recovering. But let me tell you that I've never had a bigger craving than now."

Ella rested her hand on his shoulder. "We'll get through this."

Chloe shifted uncomfortably. "I'm gay!" he blurted out.

Ella sat startled for a couple of minutes. Then she burst out into uncontrollable laughter. "Oh my god...what a freaking day. Captured by some psycho, trapped in a house with a bunch of potential murderers, bleeding to death, and now being turned down by the first guy I've hit on in years..." She stood up, clutching her stomach, still laughing.

Chloe stared at her in disbelief as she continued her laugh attack down the hall. Suddenly, she collasped.

"Ella!"

Chloe rushed forward and noticed that her face was drained of color. The blood loss was getting to her. Ella grinned, baring her sparkling teeth. "And here I thought only Fred Weasley could get away with the whole laughing until the end thing." She let out another weak giggle.

Chloe slapped her slightly. "You're not dying okay? Snap out of it. Please."

"What are you going to do? Give me a blood transfusion? I think I'm a type A no make that a B...ah hell just pour whiskey down my veins for all I care." she wheezed, her breathing slowing and the laughter subsiding.

Chloe felt her cool skin and grimaced. "Damn. We need help...Lenard! H-he should know what to do. C-can you wait here?"

But Ella was dazed, muttering what sounded oddly like a Justin Bieber song under her breath.

Chloe checked her wrists and tightened the fragment of clothing around it before cradling her in his arms as she passed out. He quickly hurried off to find Lenard.

* * *

Corrine groaned. The screaming had stopped which meant that most likely whoever had been in peril was now dead. She slammed her fist into the wall in frustration. She had to prove that she could be useful. If not to them then to herself. Trish's words had gotten to her. Because of her father's influence she had also ruined lives, lives that she hadn't even given that much of an after-thought to. It wasn't her fault she knew, it wasn't as if she asked her father to bribe Harvard but she hadn't done anything to stop it. In her own way she HAD been an accomplice.

But with the group having separated there wasn't much she could do but walk around in hopes of finding answers.

She could feel her eyelids growing heavy as she passed through what appeared to be a shabby living room. Her whole body ached and her arms had gone numb. Breathing heavily, she turned the corner when she felt something press up against her head.

"Don't move." a gruff voice commanded.

Corrine's heart stopped when she heard a familiar click go off. She had hung around her father's 'business' meeting too long to not recongize it. It was a gun.

"Now move forward carefully, make no sudden movements, and listen to everything I say." the voice ordered.

Corrine could tell it was a male voice but her mind was too foggy to make out who it was. Closing her eyes, she did as asked.


	11. Past Mistakes

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! This chapter has a couple of flashbacks so hopefully it won't get confusing. Enjoy! **

Ella ran a hand through her newly cut hair and smiled at her brother, Adam. "So, what do you think?"

Adam sipped his coffee and looked at her thoughtfully. "It looks very..." It was on the tip of his tongue..."It looks great."

Ella smiled. "Thanks big bro. So any plans for this weekend?"

Adam shrugged and took out a camera from his over the shoulder backpack. "C.G found me a job taking pictures for some guy. It pays $200 a night."

Ella however didn't look pleased. "Ugh, you're still hanging around with that a-hole? Adam, the guy got his own _sister_ pregnant!" she exclaimed.

"Hey, that was an accident."

"An accident? How do you accidentally rape your own-"

"-he didn't do that-"

"-oh of course he didn't. Because C.G is the most upright young man there is. He's awesome, incredible. You know I bet he could give Hitler a run for his money. Why are you always getting involved with people like this Adam? All they do is use you. First Scott, now C.G...Lately, you've gotten so much more angry. And you don't even seem to give a crap about anyone else but yourself! You've stopped doing anything!"

Adam slammed his fist onto the table. It shook slightly. "Hey, last time I checked I was the older sibling in this and I don't need advice from someone who spends her weekends binge-drinking the night away."

"That is completely unfair! I keep up with my grades, my extra-circulars are fine, I only drink to let off some steam and you off all people should know why!" she screamed. The other customers at the cafe were beginning to stare at them. Ella put a hand to her temple and breathed slightly. "I just...don't want you to get mixed up with the wrong crowd. I don't anything to happen to you. You're all I have left." she told him, tears glistening in her eyes.

Adam patted her hand. "I'm going to be fine sis, I promise." He gave her a weak smile and checked his watch. "I better get going. See ya later. He got up from the table and waved as he walked over to his rusty truck. He bumped into a tall jittery man with shaggy brown hair who gave him a confused look before scampering away. Adam turned and motioned at him with the crazy gesture before getting into his car and driving away. Ella stared after him, worried. It was the last time she would ever see her brother again.

_Present_

Lenard tapped the frames in the hall carefully, searching for any hidden clues.

CRASH

He turned around expectantly to see Dan's shaking hands and a broken picture frame on the floor. It was the second time that day.

"S-sorry." Dan stammered, shoving his jittery hands into his pocket.

"Tell me Dan, were you a regular user?" Lenard asked simply, continuing his search.

"W-what?" Dan asked, not quite understanding.

"Marijuana. Weed. Pot. Whatever it is you teenagers refer to it now a days. Were you or were you not a regular user?"

'Yeah s-so?"

"I believe you're suffering from withdrawal symptoms. Is this the longest time you've been without drugs?"

"Uh yeah actually. Is that why my h-hands keep doing that weird jiggly thing?"

"I would assume so."

"So...everyone obviously knows why I'm here. What about you?"

"LENARD!"

The two men spun around to see a panting Chloe running up to them with Ella in his arms. She appeared to be unconscious. "I think she lost too much blood." Chloe huffed.

He set her down carefully onto the floor and Lenard gently took her smeared wrist. The pulse was weak. "Her color isn't looking very good." he commented.

Suddenly, her eyelids flickered open and her voice came out raspy, "Adam...stay away from him..."

"Stay away from who?" Chloe went along.

"He's bad...he'll get you in trouble...his fault...his fault Jigsaw took you..."

"Whose fault Ella? Whose fault?" Chloe pressed.

"Connor's." she breathed.

* * *

_With a taste of your lips_  
_I'm on a ride_  
_You're toxic, I'm slipping under_  
_With a taste of poison paradise_  
_I'm addicted to you_  
_Don't you know that you're toxic?_

_And I love what you do_  
_Don't you know that you're toxic?_

Reyna laughed wholeheartedly at her mom's failed attempt at singing the Britney Spears classic "Toxic". Her dad was shaking his head, a grin on his face, as he drove along the seemingly empty dark street. Reyna mostly liked the strings in the song. As a cello student she had been required to take strings and she couldn't help but admire the use of it in the song.

Her cell phone beeped beside her and she quickly checked to see a text message from her girlfriend Naomi. Smiling, Reyna replied with a simple heart symbol. She glanced over at her chuckling parents once more.

Was this what it felt like to be...complete? She had everything she could ever want and more. A loving family, a perfect girlfriend, a scholarship to one of the most prestigious art schools in the country...she was happy.

Her mother turned to her, curly dark hair in a bun. "Hey, hun are you okay?"

Reyna smiled. "Yeah mom I'm f-"

Suddenly, something slammed into the side of the car and it swerved to the left before flipping over on it's side. Reyna's screams got caught in her throat as her head smashed against the window. She could still feel the car rolling over underneath her as haziness took over her. Her parents urgent yelling faded away...

"Tuck! What the hell did we do?"

...

Reyna woke up, her head pounding. Everything was dizzy. She tried to hold up her arm but found that she couldn't move it. Yep, it was broken.

"M-mom? Dad?' her voice was gravelly.

No response.

Using her good arm, Reyna dragged herself forward and managed to kick out one of the already shattered windows. Her arms scraped against the glass as she pulled herself out. Thankfully, her small frame allowed her to escape. She felt something warm and gooey sliding down her forehead; blood. Shuddering, she got to her knees. The car was upside down and a complete wreck. Then she saw them. Her parents. They were still in their seats, strapped in by their seat belts.

"Mom...dad?"

They didn't answer. They didn't even move.

Blood was dripping from their heads, sliding down their cold pale faces. No moving. No breathing. Nothing.

"MOM! DAD!"

_Present_

"LET ME AT HER!" Reyna roared.

Sydney was trying desperately to free herself from Reyna's grip.

Oliver suddenly made a grab for her and easily lifted her off of Sydney. Reyna fought against his grip, her eyes fiery.

Sydney gasped, massaging her neck while Trish made sure she was okay.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Oliver asked, keeping his hold on Reyna.

"SHE TOOK HIM FROM ME! SHE TOOK MARK! SHE CAN'T JUST DO THAT TO ME-"

SLAP

Trish pulled back her hand from Reyna's face, leaving behind a red mark. Reyna stared at her, surprised.

"C-calm down." Trish ordered, trying to keep her voice steady. "What are you talking about?"

Reyna stared for a few more moments before speaking. "Hoffman. Mark Hoffman. We were together for a while before we broke up. But now I know why. It was her! Her! She made him break up with me!"

Sydney scoffed. "Oh please. Mark has never been a one-woman man and you knew that from the start. If he broke up with you it was for a completely different reasons. So don't take out your own insecurities on me!"

Reyna crumbled in Oliver's arms and he let her go. She fell on her knees and began sobbing. "I-I c-cheated on her. I c-cheated on Naomi with Hoffman after the c-crash. And this is my punishment! This is my punishment for who I became! A sulking low-life who cheats on her girlfriend a-and pushes everyone a-away."

Sydney's glare softened while Oliver looked indifferent. Trish on the other hand helped her up and took her parents photograph. "Were they in the crash?" she asked softly.

Reyna pulled away but nodded.

"Then someone in this house had something to with that accident and we're going to find out who."

* * *

"Go into the living room and push against the wall under the stairs." the voice ordered.

Corrine did as asked, noticing that they were near the EXIT door. She pushed against the dirty white wall and a door opened to reveal stairs leading down to a basement of sorts.

"Now Nancy Drew, don't try anything funny or I'll shoot."

Corrine stepped down the stairs not daring to look back. Once at the bottom the first thing she noticed was a furnace in the middle of the room. There was a tape recorder thrown on a chair with a label that read-

"Hey! Pay attention. This furnace is my t-trap. You're going to listen to the instructions on the tape and follow them through, do you understand?"

Corrine nodded slowly and walked over to the recorder, the gun nudging her head. Her heart leaped when she read the label on the recorder. It read 'Drake Aaron'.

**Author's Note: Dun dun dun! The identity of the gun-wielding man is revealed and so is his objective for Corrine; she has to brave the same trap from Saw 2, the furnace trap. Will she be able to pay more attention than Obi did? Or will she suffer the same fate? And another connection was revealed between Ella and the deceased Connor Granger. Remember him? Died in the first trap? Well, his bad influence on Adam, Ella's brother, led him to get captured by Jigsaw and after his disappearance Ella succumbed further into her drinking. There's also another subtle hint at another connection that maybe someone caught. And lastly, if anyone figures out where those lines and the slapping scene that follows are from (just replace 'Mark' with 'Aaron'), you win a nice cookie :) Thanks for reading!**

**Connections:**

**Savvi, Michelle, and Dan- 3**

**Corrine and Trish- 2**

**Sydney and Lance- 2**

**Ella and Connor- 2**

**How many left: 5**


	12. We Didn't Start The Fire

**Author's Note: AH! I reached 100 reviews! *Victory dance* Should I should be worried that my most-reviewed fanfic revolves around a group of people being mercilessley tortured and pitted against each other in a fight for survival? Probably. Anyways, thank you SO much for all the reviews you guys, you're all awesome. The slapping scene from the last chapter was from 'Lost' actually, when Claire tries to kill Kate for having taken away her baby, Aaron. Read on!**

Jill Tuck appeared on the little screen of Mark Hoffman's cell phone.

She appeared to be sitting and the background didn't reveal much about her possible location. She looked tired and nervous, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. When she spoke, her voice sounded forced.

"I-I...hello Mark. The police have informed me of your demands. And I'm...I'm willing to meet them. Enough people have already been harmed because of your games already. No one else needs to be hurt. I'm not under police protection and I'm not involved with them in any way so be rest assured that they won't be tagging along. I give you my word. J-Just state the time and place Mark, and send it to this private address. I'll be there."

She sighed shakily and her arm covered the camera momentarily before there was an audible click and it was all static.

Hoffman snapped the phone shut and scoffed.

How _stupid_ did they think he was?

It was insulting really. Even if she wasn't working with the police as she had promised, someone _had_ to be helping her. She had to have gotten the I.P address from the police but they wouldn't have had given it to her directly. They would've given it to another more reliable or loyal source. Someone they could trust. Someone who had passed it down to her and who was helping her with this whole set-up. Because that's what this all was-a set-up. Jill Tuck could care less about others getting hurt. The Ice Queen was just trying to save her own ass with a little help from the elusive doctor.

He stood outside the warehouse where the games were currently still taking place and took a quick peek at his wrist watch. He gave the subjects half an hour tops before the loss of blood or the traps finally got to them. And if they so happened to escape, then so be it. What the hell did he care? After he got through with Jill he was done with this. He was going to start off fresh, anew.

Hoffman contemplated his next move. He had no access to any computers but the one back at his workshop. The address that had been tracked down was the one to his workshop. If Jill or the police decided to pay it a visit, he had a little something in store for them. The only other choice he had was to send the instructions to Jill by phone though that would certainly leave behind a trace...

Hoffman typed up the instructions on his phone and sent it to the address Jill had provided, via email. Afterwards, without hesitation he threw the phone with much force to the ground and stepped on it, effectively smashing the device.

With a malicious grin he began to walking towards the house. If Jill Tuck wanted to give herself up at the expense of others that was her problem. If she or anyone else showed up to the meeting they would get what they were coming for.

And so would he.

* * *

"Where did you get the gun from, Drake?" Corrine asked steadily. One of the worst things you could in life was piss off someone who held you at gunpoint.

"Found it in the house, it was underneath one of the couches in the living room. Guess this Jigsaw guy figured that it would stir up some trouble; he was right." Drake answered. She could detect the slighest hint of hesitance in his voice. He didn't want to do this. Maybe he felt it was his only choice.

"How do I know whether its loaded or not?"

"You want me to blow your head off and find out?"

"If you kill me, you won't be able to use me to get through this trap."

"Do you honestly think you're here because I need you? I could use whoever the hell I want sweetheart, I'm the one with the gun. You just happened to be the first one I found. Now quit stalling and play the tape."

Corrine did as asked.

_Hello, Drake Aaron. I see you've stumbled upon your test. What luck. What you see before you Drake, is a furnace. Inside, there is a small First-Aid kit, nothing life-saving but certainly worthwhile, along with a clue. What you choose to do with these objects is up to you. You've burned many people with your actions Drake. Your ambition and overconfidence has led you to believe that you can do whatever you need to do in order to achieve success. That involves stealing jobs, lying, manipulating, and even killing others. And now is your chance to put that attitude to the test or be burned by your failure. Remember, Drake, once you are in Hell, only the Devil can help you out. _

The tape clicked off and Corrine shuddered. There was no way out of this. She would have to go through with it.

"What are you waiting for? Go!" Drake demanded.

Corrine gulped. "C-can I at least take a look at the thing before I go crawling inside it?"

"No! Just do what the tape-"

"-look do you want me to survive this or not?"

"-I could care less whether you survive this or not-"

"-you want the First-Aid kit though don't you?"

There was a pause.

"Thought so."

Corrine surveyed the furnace, noting that the only exit was the point of entry and the window in the back looked as if it had recently been welded shut. Through the vents she could make out a hovering object. The First-Aid kit.

"O-okay. I'm r-ready." she breathed.

Opening the small door, Corrine squeezed in and began to crawl. Her elbows pushed her further until she was within reach of the dangling kit. She held out her arm and pulled down on the kit until the string holding it up snapped. She smiled triumphantly and held on to the handle as she began to move back.

SLAM

The door had been shut closed.

"Drake, open the door!" she yelled.

She could hear him trying to pull it open, the sound of the gun falling to the floor. "I'm trying! It won't budge!"

Suddenly, flames erupted from inside the furnace.

"What the hell?" Drake hollered.

"Get me out!" Corrine shrieked, kicking at the door furiously. The flames brushed past her legs and she was suddenly immensely grateful for having chosen to wear long jeans.

"It won't work!"

_No no no no. This can't be happening. NO! I have to get out. I can't die. Not now. Not now!_

"OPEN THE DOOR!" she screeched. The flames were now entirely surrounding her legs and she instinctively crawled forward to avoid them. The air was getting thick.

Drake was now at the other side of the furnace, trying to yank open the small window.

"It won't work," Corrine coughed. "Open the door!"

She hissed loudly, the blazes penetrating through her clothing, pain searing through her skin. "PLEASE!"

Then she saw it. A small knob near the door of the furnace with a devil painted on it.

_Remember, Drake, once you are in Hell, only the Devil can help you out. _

She had to get to it. She had to turn the knob, it was the only way out. But that would mean braving the fire.

Corrine gasped, struggling to catch her breath as the oxygen was slowly but surely sucked out of the flaming hell. She turned, curled her legs up against her chest then began inching forward, trying to reach the knob.

"AGH!"

The embers danced around her arm, scorching her skin. She slipped forward and landed on the flames. An agonizing scream erupted from her lips and she further swallowed in the thick smoke. She felt as if she was a little girl, playing in the pool with her father on one of the rare occasions when he wasn't working. He would dunk her underwater and hold her there until she felt that her lungs would implode.

Corrine bit her lip, drawing blood, in an attempt to hold back the screams. Her hand landed on the knob and it scalded her palm as she slowly turned it.

The flames died away and Corrine let her scarlet hand go of the knob. The door sprung open and Drake ran forward pulling her out while she winced. Every touch felt like a new blister. This was the ultimate sunburn. Once she was out, Drake pushed her away and yanked the First-Aid kit out of her hand. "Y-you got it. Great! Now hopefully there will be something inside to hold my bleeding down at least until we figure out a way out of this place-"

Corrine's fist intersected with Drake's face.

"You son of a bitch," she wheezed. "You force me to go through this trap for you and then the first thing you can think of is how to help yourself to what _I _risked my life to get? Go to hell, literally."

She shoved him inside the furnace and slammed the door shut. The flames started up again.

"N-NO! Get me out of this! Get me out of this now!" he roared. He looked for the gun which Corrine held up. "Looking for this?" she rapsed, waving the gun outside the furnace.

Drake flailed wildly inside, trying to escape the blazes.

"You're going to feel the pain that you've inflicted on everyone you've ever hurt, Drake." she said slowly, backing away from the room, the kit in hand.

Drake was trying to reach for the knob but the heat and smoke obscured his vision.

"What can I say? Karma's a bitch." Corrine puffed, stalking up the stairs.

Drake's yells were cut off as he was engulfed by flames, the gold ring on his pinky finger, slipping off.

**Author's Note: R.I.P Drake Aaron. Again, I hope I've been portraying the characters correctly. And please excuse all that mumbo jumbo about 'I.P addresses' and what not at the beginning because I assure you I had no idea what I was talking about. Updates might be taking a bit longer than usual due to exams and a BIG upcoming project for school (seriously theres singing and everything involved) in fact the name of this chapter ties into that project xP so yeah sorry. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks for reading!**

**By the way to anyone who knows of the character 'Paige Callaway' whom I've submitted to a couple of fanfics, I created a visual of her and there's a link to it under the 'News' section in my profile so you can take a look at what Paige looks like in my mind. Loads of thanks to Becky for allowing me to use her account for that. **


	13. No Help

"Well, he sent us the meeting place all right," said Daniel, waving the phone at Lawrence.

"Are we actually going to go?" asked Brit.

They were all huddled in a little cafe just down the street from the hotel.

"I think it would be best if we split up," Lawrence began. His blue eyes were set in determination and Jill admired his preserverance. After everything he had gone through, he still had it in him to be the leader. "A couple of us go to the workshop the police tracked down and the others go to the meeting place."

"Splitting up is never a good idea..." Adam said in a slightly sing-song voice.

Lawrence looked at him questioningly while Daniel sniggered. "And why's that?"

"Dude, have you ever seen horror movies? The only ones that can get away with 'splitting up' are Shaggy and Scooby." Adam stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"This isn't a horror movie Adam." Lawrence told him tiredly.

"The hell it isn't! A cold-hearted killer is after the damsel in distress," he gestured at Jill who scowled. "for revenge. Throw in some gruesome traps and the hardened leader, hot action babe, quiet skulk, and the source of wit and humour," he pointed at his chest with a cocky smile. "and we've got a full-blown horror movie."

...

"What? You all know it's true." Adam sipped on his soda nonchalantly, ignoring the glares as Lawrence began to speak again.

"You may have a point but we have to look at this rationally. If we all show up at the wrong place, a trap, then we're all sitting ducks. Now if some of us are in the clear-"

"-then we might be able to save the others." Jill finished.

"Or die trying." Brit said nonchalatly.

"Who will go where then?" Daniel asked.

Almost all eyes turned to Jill. She had been expecting it, after all she was the bait in all of this.

"Well, obviously she has to come to the warehouse, the meeting place." Daniel said easily.

"But if we bring her, we will have given Hoffman what he wanted. Who's to say he won't shoot us just then?" Brit pointed out.

"He would." Lawrence agreed.

"Why don't we just leave this to the cops?" Jill prompted.

"What are you-"

"We know of two of the places that Hoffman could be. We have what we want. Why would we want to risk our lives to find him? Isn't that their job?"

Adam slammed his fist on the table.

"Because this is personal you idiot!" he yelled. "We've gone through pure hell because of your husband so forgive us if we want to get justice one-on-one!"

"Revenge won't help any of you!" Jill screamed. "I came here to help you find Hoffman, not to put your lives in danger!"

"As if you care what happens to us or not! You're just here so that we can protect your little Barbie ass!"

"Adam!" Lawrence reprimanded.

Jill stood up. "Fine," she said icily. "it's clear you don't need me anymore. You all have what you need, you know where Hoffman is. Do whatever you want with the information but I'm going to the police. It's clear that they're the only ones that can help me." She draped her purse over her arm and turned to the door when suddenly Brit pulled out a weapon from her purse.

"Brit, what are you-"

Suddenly, it all went black for Jill.

* * *

Trish, Oliver, Reyna, and Syndey stumbled upon Lenard, Chloe, and Ella in the hallway.

"Well if it isn't the Brady Brunch." Sydney spat.

Lenard smirked slightly to himself, noticing that she was stumbling. "Nice to see you all still alive and well."

"I'm guessing thats more than we can say for her." Oliver noted, nodding at an unconcious Ella.

"How long does she have l-left?" Trish asked timidly.

Lenard looked at her sadly. "Not much. We tried the best we could to sustain the bleeding but there's only so much we can do. What she needs right now is a blood transfusion and somehow I doubt that will be happening anytime soon..."

"C-Can I help?" someone coughed.

They all circled around to see Corrine. Her clothes and face were stained with soot and there were red burns on her arms and legs.

"What happened?" Chloe exclaimed.

"Drake Aaron," she rasped. "but it doesn't matter, he's d-dead now. Will this help?" She threw a kit at Lenard who caught it and quickly opened it. It contained the basics, bandaids, antiseptics, alcohol, creams, gauze, compresses, gloves, scissors, and more.

"Nothing." Lenard informed them. "Nothing that can solve the problem. Again, this will only help sustain the bleeding but it won't change her condition."

"There was something else inside...something you should see." Corrine told Lenard directly. She pulled out a folded newspaper article from her pocket and handed it to him.

**Terror at Terra Bank**

_'Last night, two men held up Terra bank in an effort to rob it. Two people were shot and killed by the intruders, according to eye witness Drake Aaron, a customer who witnessed the deaths of both the teller and fellow bank customer. "It was horrible," Drake Aaron recalls. "They asked for the money and when the teller wouldn't give it to them they just shot the customer, as a warning, and then moved on to the teller." _

_Drake Aaron is not a novice at experiencing traumatizing events, just last year two of his co-workers Martin Rodriguez and Jackson Davies were killed under mysterious circumstances on the set of his news show 'Good Morning Hartford'.'_

The rest of the article went on to describe the events of the bank robbery in detail but Lenard had stopped reading at the name 'Martin Rodriguez'. His son.

He turned to the back of the article, on instinct, and found that someone had written in Sharpie, 'Murderer' with an arrow pointing towards Drake's name.

"That son of a-"

Abruptly, Ella's body stirred and she threw up besides Chloe. A still shocked Lenard didn't move and Chloe ran to her side and held up her head. "Ella, we just need you to hold on a bit longer. Just a tiny bit more longer." he pleaded.

"Adam..." she whispered. Chloe could feel her quick heart rate and tried to keep her still. "I'm sorry Adam...tell him...tell him I..."

Her heart stopped.

**Author's Note: Sorry for the short chapter. I feel I didn't try all that hard on this chapter so sorry about that as well. But we finally find Lenard's connection (which will be further explained next chapter), things take an interesting twist for the 'Anti-Jigsaw' group as Jill rebels, and poor Ella meets a peaceful but still sad, end. R.I.P Ella. That whole 'scary movie' thing at the start was an allusion to Scream 4 which was a pretty good movie. I should be starting the fanfic I've had planned for it pretty soon. Anyways, thanks for the reviews and for reading!**


	14. Forgive and Forget?

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Couple of things I forgot to mention last chapter. First off, loads of thanks to the mischievous pixie, for her help on some tech talk. Thanks! And I also completely forgot to include Dan last chapter. Eeek! Sorry about that! Oh and one more thing, if you feel that the original characters like Lawrence and Adam are being too OOC let me know and I'll try my best to fix it. Anyways, enjoy!**

Jill woke up to find herself in a cramped area, her hands and ankles tied. There was a gag stuffed in her mouth.

"About time." Adam's voice rang out from a distance.

She could see a tuft of his brown hair in the surrounding darkness and tried to shift towards him but found that she was unable to. Thankfully, Adam jumped from his seat to her. "Ah don't worry, I'm sure you're used to being on your knees anyways." Even though it was dark she could practically envision that cocky smirk of his.

He pulled the gag from her mouth and she immediately spit at him.

"Careful, I could throw you out of this car whenever I want to." he warned playfully. That's when she suddenly realized the motion underneath her. They were in a moving car, but who was driving?

"Adam..." came a frustrated sigh from the front. Lawrence's voice.

"It's fine, Larry. Barbie's just getting a bit restless."

"Stop calling me that!" she growled, struggling against her binds.

"I call them like I see them." Adam said casually, untying her binds.

"Oh really? What did you first think of Amanda Young? A real looker isn't she, too bad about that whole murderer thing-"

Adam furiously grabbed a chunk of her hair and pulled her towards him, seething.

"Don't you dare mention her name. Don't you fucking dare, you bitch." he whispered venemously.

"Let me go!" Jill squealed in pain.

"ADAM!" Lawrence roared. The car came to a violent stop that jerked Jill free from Adam's grip.

Lawrence scurried forward from his seat at the front and stopped besides Adam who was breathing roughly.

"Adam," he said in a low voice. "Calm down, okay? I'm here. Just remember what we learned from all this. We have to be stronger. We can't let our emotions get the best of us."

His comforting yet firm voice seemed to soothe the savage beast as Adam nodded in defeat. Lawrence patted his shoulder kindly and after a few moments of keeping an intent look on him, he returned back to his seat and started up the car. It was at that moment that Jill became aware of the close relationship the two shared. It was strange to see that after such a horrendous experience, they had still managed to form a friendship of sorts. That something good _had_ come out of John's test after all.

She pushed herself up and took a spot in the backseat. Adam was staring out the window at the glistening moon, distant.

"Brit decided to take matters into her own hands," Lawrence began with his explanation. "When you tried to leave she pulled out a taser and struck you in the neck, knocked you right out. It was quite a scene, you could imagine how difficult it was to explain that to the other customers. But we managed and here we are. Brit and Daniel headed out to the Hoffman's workshop, fully armed of course. With any luck, the cops will be there for some extra reinforcement. We on the other hand, are going to the meeting place. Shouldn't be much longer now."

Jill, who had been massaging her scalp, rolled her eyes. Wanting revenge was understandable but why would they go to such extremes to get it? She had agreed to try and help stop the Jigsaw killings but this was too much. It wasn't their place.

But she knew that at this point, whether she liked it or not, there was no going back.

* * *

Chloe shakily set down Ella's body in the corner of the room, trying to in some way keep her as comfortable as possible.

Trish and Oliver were as far away from the body as they could be, whispering away. Sydney was helping Corrine with her burn wounds with the supplies from the First-Aid kit as well as compressing her own bleeding wrists as well as she could. Reyna was pacing the room nervously and Dan was knocking his head against the wall repeatedly. Lenard turned to Corrine, determined.

"Did Drake say anything of importance to you? Anything we need to know?"

"I-I no. He basically just threatened me throughout the whole thing. Not much room for conversation." Corrine shrugged. She winced when Sydney dabbed at her arm with an antiseptic wipe.

"What about the tape?" Lenard pressed. "Anything of interest?"

Corrine closed her eyes, trying to remember. "It mentioned...it mentioned him lying. Manipulating and killing others, stealing jobs."

Trish's ears perked up. She looked at Oliver. "Did you hear that? He stole jobs? Isn't that one of the reasons you started drinking?" she asked hopefully.

Oliver shook his head. "That's completely irrelevant. It can't have anything to do with me."

Trish took his wrist and pulled it next to her own. "We're all connected, remember? Every little thing may mean something."

Realization danced in Oliver's intense blue eyes and he nodded at Trish before walking up to the others.

"You said something about Drake stealing jobs?"

"Yeah? What of it?" Lenard asked rather gruffly.

"My girlfriend, Janice. I accidently killed her and our child in a drunken rage. The reason I started drinking was because someone stole my job, ruined my life."

No one even seemed surprised anymore at the extent of the crimes committed. Desperation to find connections, to escape, had completely taken over.

Lenard threw the newspaper at Oliver who snatched it his hands. "Anything in there ring a bell?" Lenard questioned.

Oliver skimmed over the article. "Yeah...yeah. These two guys, Martin Rodriguez and Jackson Davies, they were some of the other canditates for the job I lost out on. A-And the company name on the bottom, Drake's employer, it's the name of the company that I wanted to work for! That bloody bastard took my job!" he comprehended with a wave of fury.

Lenard yanked the newspaper from Oliver's trembling hands. "Yeah well the 'bloody bastard' killed my son. Martin Rodriguez." Lenard's voice faltered and there was an awkward silence. The expectant leader of the group was threatening to break down.

Corrine bit her lip before she spoke. "I...I'm sorry Lenard. B-But now that we know what happened, that's another connection right? How many are left?"

Some of the group discussed the matter, sharing all the information concerning the various connections.

"This is good!" Sydney exclaimed in a suddenly cheerful voice. "There's just one left. We can still get through this! We can get out!"

"What's the last connection?" Oliver asked.

"Don't ask me." said Dan, even though no one had. "I'm still expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out from somewhere and tell me I'm being Punk'ed."

Everyone's attention shifted onto Chloe and Reyna, the only two who seemingly had no ties to the others. Until now.

"So?" Corrine prompted.

Chloe was shrugging while Reyna was staring at him. Hesitantly, she pulled out the folded photograph of her parents and showed it to him. "D-Do you know them?"

Chloe winced at the sight of the photograph and looked away. "N-No."

"Don't lie to me!" Reyna screeched, her eyes taking on that same dark anger.

"I...yes. Yes, I know who they are." his voice sounded forced. He pushed away his reddish brown bang. "I killed them..."

Another shocked silence in which Reyna looked as if she was going to burst, numberous expressions morphing on her face.

"I...I didn't mean to I swear. It was an accident. A complete accident. I was drunk once and decided to take a drive with my boyfriend, Tucker and my brother Jake. It all got blurry and I couldn't tell where I was going and before I knew it suddenly there was this other car in front of me and I crashed right into it. I called out for Tucker but...he was dead," Chloe's eyes were tearing up.

"His head crashed right through the windshield. M-My brother though he was fine. Once we saw what I had done, that everyone in the other car appeared to be dead...he took the blame for me. Jake took the blame for me. He told me to run and I did. Next thing I know he's in jail. I tried everything I could after that to make up for it. I really did. I'm recovering from my addiction, I donate to charity, I've really tried. But I guess this Jigsaw guy thought I deserved a little extra lesson." he finished.

Reyna blinked, taking in all of this information. "And you think that fixes things? You think saying 'sorry' and donating to charities every now and then make up for the fact that you killed my parents? Your boyfriend?"

"No of course not I just-"

"DIE!" Reyna swiped the gun from a bewildered Corrine's hands and jumped at Chloe. Lenard and Dan made a grab for her but it was too late.

BANG

Chloe fell on his back, a bullet through his forehead.

Trish yelped and made a run for it, Oliver in tow. Lenard, Corrine, and Dan ran in the other direction. Sydney began to do the same but stopped when she saw Reyna drop to her knees and begin to wail.

"S-Sorry...I'm sorry...so sorry..."

Sydney carefully scooped up the discarded gun and tried to tackle the situation. She could just kill the poor girl, put her out of her obvious misery. After all, from what she had told them all already, she really had nothing else to live for now that her parents and her girlfriend were gone. But no, she couldn't do it. She couldn't have more blood on her hands. Sydney slammed the gun against Reyna's head, knocking her out and putting her out of her distress. As she moved on from the room, Sydney promised herself that if she found a way out, she would come back for her.

**Author's Note: I think this was much better than last chapter. So, all the connections have been revealed! What's next for the remaining survivors? And what about the Anti-Jigsaw group that have decided to split up as they embark on separate suicide missions? Hmm? Well you'll just have to keep reading to find out now won't you xD The story is nearing an end and there should only be a few more chapters left. I've put up a poll up on my profile page for you all to vote on who you want to survive. I had originally randomly narrowed it down to these bunch of characters but the rest is now partly up to you! Live or die; make their choice :) Thanks for reading!**

**R.I.P Chloe Barnett**

**Connections:**

**Savvi, Michelle, and Dan- 3**

**Corrine and Trish- 2**

**Sydney and Lance- 2**

**Ella and Connor- 2**

**Lenard, Oliver, and Drake- 3**

**Chloe and Reyna- 2**

**How many left: 0!**


	15. Fallen Fighters

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy!**

Brit peeked around the wall to see that the cops had finally arrived. She turned to Daniel who was crouched down beside her. He looked nervous and was clutching tightly to the gun.

"You okay?" she asked. Over the time she had come to know Daniel a bit. He was the quiet type, kept to himself. She knew that the knowledge of what had happened to his father still burdened him. And the fact that he had befriended the person who had helped bring about his father's death didn't help matters.

He shrugged. "As okay as I can be. What happens if the cops do find him inside? What are we supposed to do?"

Brit held her taser gun, thoughtfully. "You let me worry about that." Daniel jumped at the electrical zap that the taser let off. Brit laughed. "I'm not going to hurt you." And yet looking at his face, she knew that this was what he had been expecting. Was it because of her? She knew she could be...intimidating but she would never hurt someone senselessly. She always had a reason. "Sorry if the Jill thing today scared you, but it was necessary. She was going to-"

Daniel shook his head of brownish blonde curls. "It wasn't that I just...have trust issues."

Brit cocked her head, motioning at him to continue. He sighed. "It started with the nerve gas house...I put my trust in someone that turned out to be a murderer."

"Amanda Young." Brit said. The sound of the police sirens and loud demands rang in the background.

He nodded, ashamed. "I thought she was a good person. That she could help us all out. I even liked her. Turns out I was dead wrong. Ever since I just can't bring myself to trust anyone with anything."

"It's not your fault, Daniel," Brit assured him. "Why don't you ever talk with us about this?"

Daniel scoffed. "Talk about Amanda? In front of Adam? No thank you, he'd have me burned at the stake. Besides, all of you have gone through so much worse. Your hand was sawed through, Lawrence had to cut his foot off, and Adam was shot and left to die in a bathroom for days. Sure, I saw some messed up shit but I didn't go through what you guys went through."

"You lost your father."

Daniel rubbed his eyes. "How long is this going to take?" he asked, avoiding the touchy subject. Brit took another look. "They're all inside, shouldn't take much longer to check out the place-"

Suddenly, there was the sound of dozens of bullets being fired. Brit jumped and ran forward stealthily, Daniel following. Yells and the sound of guns going off were erupting from inside the warehouse. Brit used this to her advantage, no longer bothering to be careful, and dashed to the warehouse. When she reached the inside, she snatched her gun from the holster and shielded Daniel behind her. A gasp escaped from her lips when she saw what was inside.

The bodies of several police officers lay dead on the floor, bullets riddling them.

Daniel moved away from her, surveying the area, gun held firmly in hand. Brit studied the bodies. So many bullet holes...it couldn't have had been Hoffman...it wasn't possible...but then where had the bullets come from?

Her heart stopped.

Sure enough, one glance to the right and there she saw it; an automatic turret gun.

"DANIEL, GET DOWN!"

The turret gun went off and bullets shot everywhere. Brit dove to the floor but Daniel had been too slow. The bullets shot right through him, mercilessly, and he collapsed.

"DANIEL!"

She crawled towards him as fast as she could, avoiding the bullets. They eventually stopped as she reached him. Various bullet wounds covered his chest and blood was trickling from his mouth but there was still a heartbeat. She took his hand and breathed frantically, unsure of what to do.

"H-Hold on, Daniel. I'm going to lift you out alright? T-Then I'm going to call the ambulance a-and..." she trailed off as he groaned in obvious pain.

"Don't worry about me...go back...warn them..." he heaved. Brit ran a shaky hand through his curly hair.

"No...Daniel you can't just give up..." her voice was constricted.

"It's over for me, Brit. Go and give this fucker what he deserves..." Daniel's eyes glazed over. "...Dad..."

Brit felt his hand go limp in hers and she let out a howl of rage.

* * *

Trish ducked inside the nearest room with Oliver and slammed the door closed. "S-She's gone mad!" Oliver cried. "Completely mad!"

Trish held up a hand to stop him and gulped. They were in a relatively large room, something that you wouldn't think much of-except for the saws. There were three log mill saws pointing out sharply from three point in the room: the ceiling, the right wall, and the left wall. Thankfully, they weren't moving. To the front of the room there was a small circular like area, only big enough for a hand, with spikes surrounding it.

"L-Let's get out of here." Trish murmured. She turned to the door and tried opening it-it was locked.

The saws began whirring.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked.

"The door won't open." Trish whispered fearfully, her heart hammering against her chest.

"Is there a keyhole?"

"I yeah, yeah there is."

"Then the key is bound to be here somewhere." Oliver observed.

The saws began to inch forward slightly.

"Crap..." he muttered.

Trish backed up against the wall, tearing up. "Oh my God...oh God...we're going to die..."

"Where's the key?"

Trish pointed shakily at the spiked circle at the front of the room. Oliver flinched. "Y-You sure?" "Where else could it be?"

Oliver took one look at the frail Trish who was paling by the second and decided that he would have to be the one to do it. He walked towards the spikes.

"Oliver don't!"

"You want to get out of this don't you?"

Trish shuddered. Oliver moved as far as he could from the whirring saws and after a hesitant few seconds, he dug into the circle. The effect was instantaneous. It was the same feeling he had experienced at the beginning of this whole nightmare, the spiked cuffs. The sharp edges cut into skin, blood pulsing. He winced and bit his tongue hard, drawing blood.

_Janice. Please, forgive me._

The buzzing of the saws brought him out of his painful moment. They were nearing his sides and the one on the ceiling was coming down on Trish who cowered in the corner, grabbing her hair.

Oliver forced his fingers forward until they hit something. The key! His bloody hand grasped it and he began the tedious task of pulling his hand back out. The saw was seconds away now.

_Crap_

"Oliver..." Trish squeaked.

"I'm getting there." Oliver hissed, pain and slight annoyance getting to him.

_Come on_

His wrist reached the spikes. He couldn't pull his hand out.

"Oliver!" Trish called, her voice hinting at her obvious panic. His hand wouldn't budge. It would require inching it out slowly but he didn't have the time. If he yanked it out he would surely die of blood loss in seconds.

"OLIVER!"

The saws were right above Trish's head and she was banging at the door desperately, calling out for help. Oliver pulled back and prepared himself for the immense pain that was to come when he ripped his hand out. He could still feel the spikes embedded into his skin.

With a roar of pain he pulled out his wrist and stared at it for a few seconds in wonder. Blood was oozing out quickly, spilling over the key. He turned to run for Trish when he suddenly realized how close the saws had come. Before he could take another step, they were driven right into his sides.

Trish's bloodcurdling screams were the last thing he heard as the saws sliced him in half from both sides, splattering blood and gore onto them. Rusty edges met skin and clothing as Trish continued her frantic screams. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't block out the sounds; the grinding sound of the saw meeting bone, the gurgling as blood pooled inside poor Oliver's mouth, and the familiar whirring as the saw above her made its final descent.

Too numb to move, Trish merely grabbed onto the door, an intent and cold look in her eyes as the saw came down.

* * *

Sydney ran back to the living room where she found Lenard, Corrine, and Dan mulling over the keypad. "Well?" she prompted.

"Almost done." Lenard informed her. He moved aside and let Dan move forward. "Would you like to do the honors?"

Dan shrugged, a slightly satisfied smirk on his face. He liked feeling needed. His jittery hands entered in the final answer 'Ella' and 'Conner' and the *bloop bloop* came about. There was a click and the door creaked open.

Everyone stared in disbelief for a couple of seconds. This was it. Hurriedly, they all went inside when Lenard heard something strange. It sounded like...gas. Gas being released. "No wait-"

But it was little too late. The four slumped to the floor as they inhaled the chloroform that had been released into the room.

**Author's Note: This chapter was kind of hard to write so I hope it met expectations. It sure was quite a bloodbath though right? R.I.P Daniel Matthews, Oliver Green, and Patricia Sinclair. Poor survivors huh? Just as they think its finally over, it turns out that Jigsaw/Hoffman had a little something else in store for them. What will become of them? And now that Lawrence, Adam, Jill, and presumably Brit are headed towards the deadly house itself what will happen? And where the hell is Hoffman? xD These questions should be answered soon. I'm giving this fic 2-3 more chapters more? Anyways, hope you enjoyed and get ready for quite a few twists! Thanks for reading!**

**Oh yeah and I'd like to thank Lachlan for reminding me of the razor box trap from Saw 2 that I slightly drew inspiration from to plan out this trap.**


	16. And So It Begins

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Okay, be warned that this chapter is mostly just a build-up to the action that will be taking place next chapter so it's not one of the best. Either way, I hope you enjoy! Oh and the mischievous pixie, the beginning is for you, sorry that I couldn't put in that little conversation bit xP**

Hoffman neared his face to Sydney's chest and checked her breathing. It was shallow, but still there. He ran a hand through the hair of the unconscious woman and briefly remembered their little fling. They had met at one of the many bars he visited after his sister's death. She had been chugging down one of the many beers she would that night and rebuffing the bartender's advances. Hoffman had come to her rescue in a series of intimidating slurs and she had smiled at him. Or maybe it was more of a smirk? Either way, seven tequila shots later they had ended up in a motel room. They had a good thing going on for a while, very casual. He really didn't mind that he was already in a relationship at the moment. He had stopped caring a long time ago.

It ended though of course. He would come to their usual room and would find her shuffling through files that she had brought along with her. She was looking for her brother, Jake. She would often quiz him subtly over how to go about finding a missing person that the police had given up on and he would answer, a bit reluctantly. Eventually, it got to be too much for both of them. Her obsession in finding her missing brother, his lack of emotion, and both of their damaged lifestyles. Besides, he still had Reyna.

But looking at her peaceful face now as she lay drugged on the floor, Hoffman noticed how much he missed her. Never had he met a more abrasive, fierce, infuriating woman (well there had been one but he would never admit it to himself). She wasn't the commitment type. She was fun.

He stood up and left the room, knowing that everything was already in place.

The hallways of the horrid house were quiet. Serene. Halfway to exit he almost stumbled over a crumpled body. He prodded it with his foot and saw that it was Reyna, unconscious. He couldn't help but wonder if John had known all about his casual flings and had specifically picked these woman to for the chopping block. A quick survey of her told him all he needed. Hoffman pulled out his gun. Reyna had always been...needy. She had lost so much that she clung to him as if he was her life support. It annoyed him at times but in a twisted way reminded him slightly of his sister. But looking at Reyna now, he felt pity. Somehow, the bleeding still hadn't gotten to her entirely but she wouldn't survive unless someone came back for her and it wasn't guaranteed that the other four would even make it through their final test. Of course, he could easily get her out, get some medical help. But that would be cheating now wouldn't it? He figured the least he could do was end her suffering. He cocked the gun.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of footsteps on the gravelly ground outside. He glanced at Reyna once more before heading for the secret entrance door downstairs.

It was time.

* * *

Lawrence, Adam, and Jill hoofed it after parking the car about a block away. Something about wanting to catch Hoffman off guard. As if that could happen, Jill thought. She and Adam lead the way with poor Lawrence limping in the rear. Jill could feel icy chills going up her spine. They didn't stand a chance. A handicapped doctor, a sarcastic photographer, and a useless Barbie doll. This was not going to end well.

"Are you okay?" Adam asked gruffly, taking notice of her shaking body.

_No I'm not okay. I don't want to play hero, I don't want to try and save the day. I don't even know why I volunteered to help with all this. I __should've__ just fled town when I had the chance. I can't do this...I just can't._

"I'm fine." she lied. Oh what the hell. "Why don't you like talking about her?"

"Talking about who?"

Jill knew better than to say the name. She gave Adam a quick look and he seemed to understand because he clenched his jaw.

"I just...don't."

"You hate her that much, huh?"

"It's not hate it's...I just don't like the fact that I...that I care-cared- about a serial killer?"

"...what?"

"I...I met her before. The stairway in my apartment building. She was probably there to kidnap me. But I flirted with her, took her picture. I liked her. Then I end up in the bathroom, because of her. I escape, because of her. And then I get nightmares, because of her. It's too much. I don't like talking about it..." Adam trailed off.

Jill could hear a mixture of emotions vibrating in his voice ranging from anger to pain. She felt for him though. She knew that same feeling of guilt. Feeling guilty over caring about someone who has done so many terrible things. But you can't help who you fall for.

"We're here." Lawrence piped up from behind them. They had arrived at a decrepit house. It was eerily quiet. They all pulled out their weapons. "Let's go."

They moved around the house and Jill caught something out of the corner or her eye. Was that...an open door? "Is that a door? It's open..."

Lawrence and Adam took a look and frowned. "It is indeed." Lawrence observed. "But it's obviously a trap." Adam pointed out. "I mean it can't be that easy."

Lawrence bit his lip. "We're going to have to risk it." Adam and Jill had too much respect to question Lawrence at the moment and followed him. The first they did was check for any trigger wires of any kind. Sharing wary looks, they all walked into the devil's lair.

* * *

Corrine groaned and struggled to open her eyes. She was so sleepy... There was a strange taste in her mouth. It was a rusty penny taste, like blood. Blood and metal. What was going on? She finally forced her heavy eyelids open and instantly regretted it. She was in a dark room, her hands restrained by tape. She turned her head to further observe the room and that's when she felt it. The heavy headset attached to her head. The big chunk of metal. What the hell was this? Corrine squinted when she spotted something on the other side of the room. Oh God. It was Sydney. It was Sydney, still passed out, and sprawled on the floor.

* * *

Despite his usual calm demeanor, Lenard almost jumped when he woke up. He was in a metal chair, his hands embedded into a metal hold of sorts that cut into his skin. But that wasn't the worst of it. 8 glinting knives faced him menacingly, arrayed in perfect order to point towards his face. He instinctively tried to pull away and roared in pain. The metal dug into his skin fiercely. How much more blood could he possibly lose? What was all this? It took him a while to notice the shadow that lingered in the back of the room. It was hanging from above. Lenard shuddered, despite himself, and looked up. Dan was being suspended from his neck, his body limp. Was he alive? Dead? Lenard couldn't tell.

"Get me out of this!" he boomed.

* * *

Suddenly, in both rooms, the television screens lit up. 

**Author's Note: Gasp! What heinous traps have these poor souls been confined to? Well, they're old favorite and ****that's all I have to say on the matter. Lol you'll find out next chapter. And so, Lawrence, Jill, and Adam finally arrive to the house itself and Hoffman is waiting for them. Eeek. Thanks for reading!**

Lachlan I tried to incorporate **the neck tie thing with Dan's trap, we'll see how it goes next chapter :)  
**


	17. Boiling Point

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! I am proud of this chapter, even if it completely sucked. Why? Because it's the longest chapter I've EVER written and it took some hard work. Hopefully it will hold over until finals are over next week. Really sorry for it being so long but I felt it would be unfair to string it out into like two more chapters. Hope the traps were played out realistically. Enjoy!**

Jill kept behind Adam and Lawrence clutching at the gun until her knuckles had turned white. They were casing the place out as carefully and silently as possible. She still had half a mind to run out the door and get help from the police but several things kept her rooted to the spot. A) She was shaking so badly that she wasn't sure she would be able to make it out the door without collapsing, B) even if she did run there were no guarantees that Hoffman wasn't outside or waiting for them near the car, and C) she knew it would be wrong. Even though she wasn't exactly treated like royalty among the group they had agreed to protect her at all costs. Yes, their ulterior motive was essentially to kill Hoffman but the very fact that they had agreed to keep her safe meant something to her. She had to hold up her end of the bargain.

They neared a corner and Adam nervously peeked around it. Hoffman was nowhere in sight. "It's clear." he whispered. The lights in the house flickered. They all jumped slightly. Adam let out a breath. "Paranoia, let's just keep going."

Suddenly, there was a crackling sound and Hoffman's voice boomed from the inside of the house.

"Welcome. I see you've all arrived just in time for tonight's little show," Jill shut her eyes. "Unfortunately, one of your own made it here a bit early. Isn't that right, Brit?"

"GET OUT! GET OUT NOW-!" Brit's frantic voice was cut off by the sound of a smack.

"Spirited isn't she? Now let's get down to business. It's really very simple. I could care less about you Dr. Gordon. Or you Adam. You both passed your tests albeit you Adam, who had a little help from my former partner. I have no use for either of you. All I want is Jill. This is how it's going to work; I can see you all now. A little nervous are you, Jill? All you have to do is leave the house, leave Jill behind. Go on your merry way and Brit will be released. Simple. Now, if you decide to stick around, try and find me or whatever it is you plan to do, then she'll be killed. And then you all will. Think of it this way; is she really worth it? Her husband caused you both so much pain. He took away your lives. Dr. Gordon, you lost your wife, your child, and well your foot. Adam, what good came out of your test? A bullet wound, nightmares, and continuous pill-popping that hasn't helped with the pain. He ruined your lives, and she just stood back in the sidelines and watched. Is she really worth risking your lives for? I'll give you both a while to mull over this. But don't take too much time. Brit's waiting."

Another crackle and then nothing.

Jill opened her eyes to find both Adam and Lawrence staring at her intently.

* * *

Corrine battled her own self, trying to keep calm as the painted puppet appeared before her. In the dark, it's face looked even more malevolent.

_Welcome. I see you're one of the few to have made it past this little game. How do I know this? Over time, I've come to see that no matter how many options and possibilities you offer someone, greed or selfishness or even pure ignorance gets in the way of that and they don't follow the rules. So I am only to assume that not all of you original 14 have made it out. What a shame. But congratulations on making it this far. On making it to the final test. The whole purpose of this game has been for you all to work together, find connections. Now it's time to put that to the ultimate test. Corrine, you have been confined to an old favorite of mine, think of it as a reverse bear trap. Let me demonstrate..._

Corrine held her breath as she concentrated on the image before her. The device on her head was placed on a Styrofoam head of sorts. There was a beep and the device snapped outwards, ripping the Styrofoam mouth apart.

She jumped, consumed with fear. That was going to be her. That was going to be her if she didn't pass the test. Her eyes teared up.

_As you can see, the device is hooked into your upper and lower jaw. If you don't unlock it before the timer in the back goes off, your mouth will be permanently ripped open. How do you unlock it? There's the thing; you don't. There are two keys to release you. One is in the mouth of a fellow player in the room next to yours. To receive that key, you merely do nothing. It is up to yet another fellow comrade in that same room to retrieve the key and come back to unlock your headgear. And don't even bother trying the door; it can only open from the other side. The other key however is in the stomach of the unconscious Sydney before you. You have let your father control your life for far too long, Corrine. And so it is now up to you to make your own choices. Will you put your trust in the person in the room next door? Or will you take matters into your own hands and kill to survive?_

The screen turned black.

Corrine immediately began to fight against the bonds. Jerking her arms, flailing her legs forward. The tape was loosening. With one final hard pull, she yanked herself free, pulling a trigger along the way.

_Tick, Tick._

Shit. This was when the timer started. Out of common instinct, she let her hands fly to the contraption, trying to see if by some crazy coincidence she could get it off. Grabbing chunks of her hair in the process, Corrine pulled at the trap, fingers brushing the cold rusty metal. But it was no use.

**55**

_No, no, no! I have to get out of this! I didn't go through all this just to die! NO!_

Corrine rushed to the corner of the room and pounded on the person next door had to hurry up. Sobbing and attempting to scream through the trap, she kicked at the door, jiggling the knob, trying everything she could to let the person know that they had to hurry up.

**50**

Who could it be? It had to be Lenard and Dan since Sydney was here in the room with her. But who held her fate in their hands? Wait, Sydney...Sydney! Corrine walked over to her slowly, she looked so calm. Almost dead. There was a knife or was it a scalpel tossed aside next to her. Corrine's knees gave away and she dropped beside her, weeping.

_They're not going to get here with the key in time. I'm going to have to c-cut open her stomach. Oh God._

**40**

The thought brought a wave of nausea over her and she nearly fell over Sydney's body. Corrine quivered in fear, the ticking ringing in her ears. She noticed that Sydney's wrists had been bound with something to apply pressure to her bleeding wrists. Corrine looked at her own and noticed the same thing. Hoffman did this to them. The sick fuck didn't want them to die before they got through the test.

**35**

Frantic sobs kept coming from her, her eyes blurring over with tears. She could hear the painful screams of the person in the next room as they struggled against their test. Corrine shook her head as she lifted up Sydney's shirt. A sloppy stitch was right near her belly button and it was bleeding a bit. Hoffman apparently wasn't all that meticulous.

**30**

_I'm so sorry_

Corrine took the scapel. Suddenly, Sydney's eyes flickered open. Corrine squealed.

_No. Why did she have to wake up? Why? I'm going to have to kill her now while she's conscious. I'm going to have to see her face as I stab her._

But Sydney didn't move. Instead, her blue eyes widened in fear and confusion. Was she unable to move? Was she drugged?

**25**

_FUCK! I can't wait anymore. I'm going to have to do this._

Corrine took the scalpel and whimpered as she raised it.

* * *

_...Now it's time to put that to the ultimate test. You're an interesting case aren't you Lenard? Some look at you and what do they see? A cool reserved leader. Helpful and logical. But when I look at you, I see a cold-blooded murderer. You play with your victims don't you Lenard? How many have there been? 25? You play mind games with these people and you kill them. Killing is distasteful to me. And what you've done is disgusting. You see Lenard, I don't kill. I offer choices and opportunities. I give others a new outlook on life and I do this because I want them to learn from their experiences. Now why do you do what you do? To get some sick satisfaction out of it? Or maybe you think that by killing all these people, you will avenge your son's murder. But you do feel guilt and remorse. There's still hope for you yet which is why I'm offering you this final test. Your salvation._

Lenard's heart pounded erratically against his chest. What was he going to be put through now?

_You will be playing to save not just your life but three others. What you see in front of you is the first trap I ever created. Don't you feel honored? The idea is to press your face up against the knives, until your face matches the ugliness of the crimes that you have committed. If you push hard enough you will be released from your restraints. Once you are released, you may pull your friend, Dan, down from the rope. Inside his mouth should be a key. This key can be used to save the others in the next room. Now what if you were to...refuse to play along? Quite simple really, if you simply sit there you will eventually bleed out. It will be slow and painful. Your friend Dan will also die from asphyxiation and possibly two lives will also be lost next door. That's a lot of blood on your hands isn't it? And do you really need anymore? Your time has come Lenard. Live or die; make your choice._

Lenard cursed, looking at the knives in anticipation. He had to do this. Lives were at stake. And the damn prick was right; he couldn't afford to have any more crimes in his conscious. He curled his fists and scrunched up his face in preparation. This was going to hurt like hell.

He pressed his face up against the cool edges and pushed. Almost immediately he jerked back when the blades sliced at his cheeks and nose. Blood began streaming down his face and he bit his tongue.

_I have to do this. Just concentrate._

Again he tried this time pushing harder. His growls of pain mingled with the low sobs he heard in the next room. He groaned, the knives digging into his forehead. Cutting apart his skin. And still the knives hadn't been pushed apart hard enough. Lenard leaned his head back, breathing hard. He saw there was a space underneath the apparatus and wondered if he could just duck and escape. He tried but his head wouldn't fit.

More frantic screams. He heard Dan groaning and coughing from above. Then they started. The voices. The voices of all of his victims began buzzing in his head.

_Let me out! Please!_

His bloodied face continued the torture, pressing the knives forward.

_Why are you doing this why? What have I ever done to you?_

More tearing. More screams. More blood.

_Please Lenard! Please just let me live! Please!_

The blood dripped onto his clothing, the restraints feeling like nails that had been attached to his hands.

_I have a baby! Please!_

"GET. ME. OUT!" With a final push, the knives finally pushed completely forward and he fell off the chair, the arm and leg restraints freeing him at last.

Lenard laid there for a couple of seconds coughing out blood and shuddering uncontrollably. The moaning brought him back to reality. He got to his feet and ran to where Dan was. Using his height to his advantage, Lenard pulled Dan down by his ankles and the rope broke free. He was choking. Lenard slammed his back with his palm fiercely and Dan shook violently, retching.

"Come on, Dan! Come on!"

He spit out a key and Lenard swiped it clumsily. Dan fell on his back, wheezing. His face was swelled and blue. Lenard gave him an apologetic glance and ran for the door.

* * *

Corrine brought the scalpel down to Sydney's stomach. Her eyes all but bulged at the intense pain and she managed to let out a little groan of pain. Corrine yanked the scalpel from her body, fresh blood glistening on it and prepared herself to bring it down once more.

**10**

Suddenly, the door swung open. A disheveled and bloodied Lenard appeared his head whipping from side to side. Corrine dropped the scalpel and waved at him, her arms weak. He ran for her, key in hand.

**6**

Corrine screamed in desperation against the apparatus. Lenard's shaking hands tried to locate the padlock.

**4**

He felt it and fumbled with the key before finally getting it in and turning it.

**1**

Corrine wrenched the device from her head and it tumbled to the floor, snapping at the last possible second. She broke down completely in front of Lenard, her head meeting his shoulder as blood pooled near the corners of her mouth. Lenard patted her back, distracted. Sydney's stomach was clotting with blood. Dan was in the other room struggling to breathe. What now?

* * *

"We can't just give her over to him? What did we go through all this for?" Lawrence whispered.

"But what about Brit?" Adam mumbled under his breath.

Jill felt dizzy and she backed up against the wall, her head spinning. Was this what it felt like to know that death was coming? She didn't want to die but there was no other choice. Lawrence noticed her distress and took her arms. "Jill," he started softly. "We're not going to let him hurt you, okay? Just give us time to work out a plan? Everything's going to work out."

She felt like protesting. She felt like cursing him out, yelling at him to look around. There was no other option. She had to die. But she didn't want to give Hoffman the satisfaction of seeing her break. So instead she nodded numbly.

The crackling. "Have you made your decision yet?"

"We're not going to give you Jill." Lawrence bellowed loudly.

"...Wrong answer." There was an ear-splitting scream as Hoffman slit Brit's neck. Jill clamped her hands over her ears tightly, trying to block out the sound of gurgling and moaning. Adam and Lawrence flinched. There was a thud as Brit's body toppled to the floor.

"Crap." Adam seethed.

Hoffman's voice took a darker tone that froze Jill's insides. "Ready or not, here I come."

They all shared frantic looks and immediately thought of the same thing; the door. "Jill, help Lawrence. I'll go in front and check everything out." Adam murmured quietly. Jill nodded in understanding and put her arm around Lawrence's waist, helping him limp faster. Adam held the gun in front of him and proceeded back to the door. Every turn they took made Jill shudder expectantly. Where was Hoffman? Was he still watching them? Was he waiting for them at the door? And if he was could they really take him now that they were one down? Speaking of which, where was Daniel?

"Okay, the coast is clear," Adam said. "Let's-"

Suddenly, Hoffman jumped out from the corner of the hall and slashed Adam's throat swiftly with the serrated knife. Jill yelled and Lawrence roared in agony as he watched his best friend slide down to the floor, blood gushing out of his neck. Lawrence pushed Jill off of him. "RUN!" he yelled at her.

Jill turned the corner instantly, the last thing she caught was Lawrence swinging at Hoffman with his cane. She ran through one hall and the distinct sound of whirring saws rang in the air, she ignored it and continued turning from hall to hall, trying to remember anything that John might've ever mentioned about exits in this place. She winced when she heard a gunshot go off. Oh God, Lawrence. Jill tripped over something and landed on her face. She had to restrain herself from screaming when she realized that it was Brit's body, plastered in blood. "Oh God..." she cried through clenched teeth. A small device of sorts lay next to her. It must've been how Hoffman had transmitted his speaker messages to them. Before she could get to her feet, Hoffman grabbed her from behind and smashed her face into the wall.

"Long time no see, Jill." he hissed in her ear. Jill whimpered as he once again smashed her face against the wall. With a grunt, he threw her to the floor and kicked at her stomach. Jill clenched her stomach and was suddenly back at the clinic. Blood running down her thighs as she lost Gideon. Cecil helplessly apologizing. Amanda probably hidden somewhere out back. The pain. Another kick and Jill felt a crunch inside her. Had he broken something? What did it matter at this point anymore? He seized her hair by the roots and pulled her up. "I know exactly what I'm going to do with you." he uttered emotionlessley.

Jill whined softly, as he forcibly dragged her towards the sounds of the whirring saws. He kicked open the door and the whirring sound intensified. "Have fun." he smiled and threw her to the floor. The saws began their path to her. Hoffman closed the door behind him as Jill let out a mangled scream.

He walked away, no regrets, finally at ease. Hoffman wiped some blood off his hands and turned the corner. He noticed something on the floor and bent down to pick it up. It was a pig mask. But how could it have gotten there? He hadn't worn his since he dropped all the subjects off. A pang of panic hit him. What had he missed on the monitors while he was gone?

Suddenly, something struck him on the back of his head and it went black.

* * *

Hoffman's eyelids fluttered open. Almost immediately a bright light met his eyes and he recoiled. Where was he? He arched his back to get up and noticed a tinkling sound sound when he moved his foot. Eyes strained, he looked down. His foot was in a shackle. Shit. And this floor...he recongized this floor. Taking a good look around, Hoffman realized where he was; the bathroom. How did he get here?

The door slid open and someone in a pig mask and cloak walked in. "Hey!" Hoffman called. The masked person ignored him. "Hey, get me out!" he demanded. They shook their head and walked over to one side of the room and picked something up, the rusty saw. They waved the saw at him mockingly and threw it out of the room.

"W-Who are you?"

On command, the person took off their mask and smirked at him. It was Trish Sinclair.

"What...what the hell...? But you're supposed to be dead."

Trish narrowed her purple eyes. "I'm here aren't I?" She shoved one hand into the cloak and took out a small key. "This little baby is what got me out of the saw room."

"How the hell did you get that?" Hoffman asked in disbelief.

"You really haven't figured it out yet?" Once again she reached inside the cloak and this time brought out a tape recorder. She pressed play.

_Hello, Mark. I trust that you are less than pleased with my actions but understand that they were for your own good. What benefits could've been reaped from my not testing you? What would you have learned? Since you are hearing this tape it means that my legacy has a chance to continue. You have proven your perseverance and will to survive but could you listen? Could you set aside your feelings and complete one final task? I ask for you to simply end my legacy, set up one final yet vital trap. This is not a game. If you wish you may walk away from my life's work completely, continue with your routine life that I'm sure you've missed. If not then there are instructions in a marked envelope hidden away in my workshop. Follow them and secure the end of my legacy. But you must ignore common instincts and NOT seek revenge against Jill if you wish to complete this task. The consequences from any defiance against these rules will be worse than death. So Mark, I have now offered you the options available. What will you decide?_

It was the tape that had fallen out of the reverse bear trap when he had escaped.

"See, I'm here to make sure that those consequences that John mentioned are carried out." she said simply, picking at the pig mask.

"H-How-"

"John found me. I was working at a bookstore, depressed after my rejection from Harvard. We sat down and talked. It was a nice chat, he's was a very interesting man he was. Anyways, seeing my financial and emotional situation, he offered me some help. He had some work that needed to be carried out. If I helped not only would I be compensated in cash, I would learn a lot about myself. I would change for the better. See, I was a coward. One of the reasons that that rejection got to me so badly was because I knew I wouldn't be able to protest it. I could never speak up for myself. Never took risks. Sounds simplistic and dumb yes, but believe it or not it affected my life a lot. So, a couple of months ago was it? John brought me here. He explained to me all that I had to do. I needed to participate in one of his games and watch over things. Make sure that everything went as planned, that all the subjects went where they were supposed to go. And most importantly, watch over Jill and take action if you defied his rules. If you decided to take revenge against Jill. And so here I am. I was the one who sent you the note. 'I know who you are'? And I'm the one that placed Lance and Savvi in their traps. And guess what? It worked. I didn't expect it to but it did. The game was as real to me as it was to the others. I could get out whenever I wanted sure, but I was a real participant nonetheless and I experienced everything they went through. I've become...stronger throughout all this. I never would've thought I of all people would slap someone. Or brave those spiked cuffs. And yet here I am." she finished with a chuckle.

"You sick bitch." Hoffman muttered.

Trish's eyes flared. "What did you say?"

"You watched them all die and went along with it. You played them all."

Trish scoffed. "I didn't play anyone! I just followed the rules! And yes, I did watch them all die," her eyes glazed over momentarily, reliving the awful moments. "but I couldn't do anything without giving myself away. I tried to help as much as I could. I was one of them." She tossed the mask with distaste. "Besides, you're ten times worse." she said in a slightly sing-song voice, glaring at him.

Hoffman shook his head. "John just played you. You're his guinea pig. He just used you so you would deal with me if he couldn't. He just wants you to continue the legacy."

Trish rolled her eyes. "I'm not continuing anything. John made his intentions clear; my job was to deal with you if necessary. I got paid, I learned. That's it. No strings attached. And he didn't use me, I was his apprentice. I knew what I was getting into."

Hoffman was running out of things to stall her with, to convince her. "They'll find you, you know. When they realize you're missing."

A smile crossed her face. "The good thing about working for a guy like John, are the benefits. Besides the cash there's also all the options he offers. The man knew how to cover his tracks." Trish placed a hand on her long raven hair and pulled at it, revealing it to be a wig. She had shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair. "And that's just this week's color. I could be a brunette tomorrow or a red head. Possibilities are endless. John forged loads of papers for me as well, identities are so easy to replace. Oh and if you're worried about the eyes, there are always contacts out there. Possibilities."

She turned for the door. "You can't just leave me here!" Hoffman yelled out throatily. Trish didn't turn when she responded. "You're a cold-blooded murderer. I can do whatever I want with you." Then she glanced at him with a small smile. "See ya in another life, brotha." she quoted.

Hoffman scowled at her, seething while she made a grab for the lights when suddenly a figure appeared before her.

It was Lawrence Gordon. He had been listening to them all along. He was clutching at his side, bleeding. A gunshot wound. Trish stood there in silent shock. "He...in there?" Lawrence huffed.

Trish didn't know what to do but nod. Lawrence brushed past her and limped towards Hoffman. Hoffman glared at him, screaming to be let go as Lawrence pulled out his gun. Hoffman froze. Lawrence aimed and shot him-right in the shoulder. Hoffman howled in pain as Lawrence looked down at him, hate in his blue eyes. "Suffer." He wobbled away but not before stopping for the heavy toilet lid. The one that Eric Matthews had used to escape. He motioned at a shocked Trish to come over there. She obeyed, hiding a hypodermic needle in her pocket. "Take that...away. Wouldn't want him...escaping would we?" he puffed.

Trish raised an eyebrow but did as asked and dragged the toilet lid out of the room. "You never saw me. I never saw you." Lawrence warned. Trish examined him in confusion and admiration but nodded. Lawrence took one final look at Hoffman and his eyes strayed over to his foot. His brow furrowed and he grimaced. And with that he limped away.

She took a few minutes to recover from the surprise before turning back to the furious Hoffman. "GET ME OUT!" he cried.

She looked at him blankly, then turned off the lights. "Game over."

The door closed in on the howling Hoffman.

**Author's Note: WHAAT...? Lol I hope this met expectations and that I portrayed the characters correctly. A lot of the character's fates were left out in the open in this here chapter but fret not for they will be revealed next chapter in The Epilogue. As for the speaker thingie that Hoffman used to communicate I don't think it makes sense but even if it didn't just go along with it please xP Since this chapter left a couple of questions the first person to tell me who said 'See ya in another life, brotha' and where its from gets the answer to ONE simple question. Thanks for reading!**


	18. Epilogue

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Read on for the last chapter!**

Lawrence Gordon smiled warmly at his patient. "The stitches are holding up pretty well. The only thing we currently have to worry about is the infection that you contracted. Hopefully, the antibiotics will help that. If your fever gets any worse, call me."

Sweat drenching her forehead, Sydney Terrell got to a sitting position. She breathed heavily for a few moments. "God, this hurts." She blew a tuft of burgundy hair from her eyes and looked at Dr. Gordon. "How much longer am I going to have to put up with this?"

Lawrence didn't look up as he signed her prescription. "You were stabbed in the abdomen, Sydney. You're lucky that that the scalpel didn't hit any of the surrounding organs. All I'm really worried about is the possible enzymatic damage to the organs. In fact, you really should've stayed at the hospital."

Sydney shook her head. "Hell no. There's nothing to do there."

"That's kind of the point. Look, just be really careful and make sure to take your meds. Do you need me to prescribe you anything for the pain?"

"No thanks, I got my own ways of dealing with it." she said somewhat darkly. Lawrence glanced at her briefly before ripping out the prescription from the pad.

"I thought you were an oncologist," Sydney commented. "Can you really do this?"

"I can make exceptions. Here you are." Sydney took the prescription, stuffed it into the pockets of her tight pants, and grabbed her crutches. With the intense pain, she needed some kind of support.

"Are you sure you don't want a wheelchair to get you down to the parking lot or-"

"No!" she snapped. She closed her eyes momentarily and looked up, apologetic. "Sorry, I'm...I'm trying."

Lawrence smiled. "No problem."

Sydney limped out of the room and ran into a familiar face on the way. She nodded their way and continued on.

Lawrence grinned when his girlfriend walked into his office. "Taking some time off from work, huh?" Jill Tuck, still in uniform from her job at the clinic, swung her arms around Lawrence's neck and kissed him.

"They don't need me at the moment. Plus, you left your lunch" she laughed, dropping a small brown paper bag on his desk. Lawrence smiled at her and noticed the large scar on her arm. "Need anything for that?"

Jill glanced at her scar and winced internally at the memory. Or at least what she managed to remember.

The last thing she recalled was Hoffman thrusting her inside the room, locking her in to face her inevitable fate. She had fainted when the saw had grazed her arm. Next thing she knew she was at the hospital. The saw had scraped away at the skin and bone. Not a pretty sight at all but a small price to pay she figured, compared to what could've happened.

"Nah. I barely remember its there anymore."

Lawrence forced a smile. He on the other hand, knew the whole truth. Mere seconds after Hoffman left Jill in the room, he had been knocked unconscious by Trish. She had immediately left him incapacitated while she ran to free Jill from the treacherous room. After all, part of her job had been to protect her mentor's ex-wife. And so Jill had been saved, along with some others that Lawrence had come upon in another room. However, not everyone had made it out alive.

"By the way," Jill spoke up. "this came for you this morning. No return address." She handed him a thin envelope with his name scribbled on in rather messy handwriting on the front.

"Thanks." Lawrence murmured.

Jill looked up at him, worry on her face. She ran a hand through his thick blonde hair and sighed. "We're going to get through this you know? We just...we just need a little bit of faith." she whispered.

Lawrence nodded and kissed her forehead gently. "Take-out today?" She glowed and shook her head enthusiastically before leaving his office. Lawrence took a seat, his eye catching the photo of Adam that rested on his desk. He could feel the tears welling up.

Adam hadn't made it. Despite Lawrence's best efforts, he had bled to death in his arms as they waited for help to arrive. He would never forget how the light in his brown eyes had dimmed seconds before his breathing stopped. The only comfort Lawrence could find in the situation was that Adam would finally be reunited with his sister, Ella.

Lawrence hastily wiped the tears from his eyes. His patients couldn't see him this way. Instead, he ripped open the envelope, eager to distract himself.

_Dear Lawrence,_

_I hope things are going well for you. I tuned into the news the other day to check in on things. I'm happy that you, Jill, and the others made it out safely and I'm truly sorry for those that didn't. You must understand that there wasn't anything I could do. It was out of my hands. However, I do appreciate you keeping our little secret, it's made things easier. Especially knowing that I haven't been outted as an apprentice, but rather a missing girl. One that not much anyone cares for. Still, it takes off some of the guilt and for that I thank you. I know that nothing can ever really help you forget, but I hope the money that I have enclosed makes a difference in your life and the others. It's a check for $100,000 to be divided amongst yourselves. Who know maybe one of you might decide to donate your share to a greater cause. Wouldn't that be nice. I honestly don't blame you if you decide to shred the check. I guess I'm just using it as a defense mechanism to shed off some of the guilt. Now don't get me wrong, while I'm not proud of it, I did what I had to do. And for that I have no regrets. If there's one thing that John taught me, its that life's too short and you should do what you can with it. Carpe Diem. Hopefully, this money can perhaps help you enjoy that life._

_I'm off to go enjoy that life elsewhere, far away from this place. With any luck we'll both be able to move on and let go. Because Dr. Gordon? At this point, that's all we can really do to keep ourselves moving. Use the money well and take care._

_Sincerely, Trish_

_P.S. Along with the check, I've also enclosed something I think you'll be interested in._

Lawrence put the letter down and dug inside the envelope, pulling out the check and what appeared to be some photo negatives. His breath caught in his throat when he realized what it was. The last pictures that Adam had ever taken. He squinted, trying to see them but it was difficult in this light. He immediately promised himself to go and get them developed later. Lawrence smiled sadly at the picture of Adam. Maybe Trish was right. There was nothing much left for him to do but move on. And so he sat there, trying to not drown under the pressure of his own memories.

* * *

Sydney reached her car and almost tripped until an arm gripped hers. She caught a whiff of smoke and instantly knew who it was.

"Thanks, Dan."

The tall figure emerged from the shadows and the shaggy haired young man shrugged. "No problem." He helped her to the car and she leaned back against the hood. "Have any extra?"

Dan pulled out a joint from his jacket and lit it for her. She gratefully took it from him and took a drag while staring at Dan. He was much less jittery now, surprisingly. He still carried on with his drug habit but not as routinely as he used to. She knew he would never admit it to himself, but she was pretty sure that he was trying to slowly quit.

She on the other hand, had just gotten started.

On one of her trips to Dan's crappy apartment, he had offered her a joint and she had accepted reluctantly. She had developed an irrational fear of being captured again if she committed sin. She really was trying to change. Whether it was because she truly wanted to or because the paranoia had gotten to her, she still wasn't sure. Either way, the marijuana helped ease the pain, it relaxed her. She didn't need Dr. Gordon and any of his pain meds. She had all she wanted; Dan and his drugs.

Her head felt dizzy and she placed it against Dan's chest. The strong stench of the drug had faded. He really was trying to quit. Dan patted her back. "We going to see Reyna today?"

"Yeah." she grumbled, not really wishing to go. She didn't want to see _her_ there. He wrapped an arm around her waist and led her inside the car.

* * *

"She can be released today?" Lenard asked the nurse.

She nodded curtly, looking at a clipboard. "According to the doctor's orders, everything checks out. She's been undergoing the necessary therapy these past few weeks and he believes that she's made progress. Reyna has begun opening up about both her past and her newer experiences. She's come to a healthy stage of acceptance."

Lenard was tempted to disagree with her. Reyna seemed almost too calm lately...but who was he to disagree? All he wanted was for her to recover.

He returned to her room to find her lying on her bed, speaking animatedly to Corrine.

"Good news, Reyna. The nurse said you're being released today." Lenard announced.

A grin lit her pale face and her dark eyes grew bright. Her messy black hair had been cut to around Corrine's length and the ends had been curled upwards to give her somewhat the appearance of a pixie. Maybe the time she had been spending in the psychiatric ward had done her good. And yet behind the glossy happy smile, Lenard couldn't help but sense something was wrong...it was just a gnawing feeling...

"You better start changing clothes then." Corrine told her kindly.

"Finally, it'll be a nice change from this hospital gown." Reyna sniffed, regarding the clothing with obvious distaste. She headed to the bathroom, the plastic bag with her clothing in hand.

"You sure someone shouldn't..." Lenard began.

Corrine narrowed her eyes. "She's not going to try anything, Lenard."

"Funny, because that's exactly the first thing she did when we got out of that hell hole. Or did you forget how she slit her wrists and had to be rushed to the hospital?" he hissed.

Corrine sighed and opened her mouth to respond but something buzzed from inside her purse. She took out her cell phone and Lenard caught sight of the screen flashing 'Dad'. She grimaced and put the phone on silence.

"What's going on with that?" Lenard questioned, wanting to change the subject to something more light.

"He heard that I dropped out of Harvard and he's been trying to convince me to enroll back in. 'Whatever it takes sweetie! If the coursework is too much I'll talk to some of your professors. If its the kids I'll get someone to knock some sense into them. Whatever you need!'" she rolled her eyes.

"Nice to see you're being more assertive."

"Eh. How about you? How are things going for you?"

Lenard could sense her eyes on the many large scars that riddled his face. He knew she couldn't help it. Everyone did the same. "I'm fine." he grumbled.

The biggest lie known to mankind.

Corrine raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I'm still trying to process things, decide what I'm going to do. I'm not sure whether I should turn myself in or not. It wouldn't leave much room for me to change since I'll surely get the chair but it would make me feel a hell of a lot better." he contemplated grimly.

"I'm sure you'll make the right decision." Corrine smirked. "If there's one thing I'm certain you are Lenard, it's smart."

They shared a little laugh, as if they had been friends for years. And Lenard realized the effect of the games. He really didn't know whether the games had achieved the purpose that John Kramer wanted- having the person change for the better- but he did know that it had brought them closer together. All of these people who had been strangers at first had now been drawn together by the horrific events that they had all experienced.

"Knock, knock." came a laughing voice from behind them. They spun around and came face to face with Dan.

Lenard remembered from his last talk with him that Dan had gotten a new job, was trying to quit the drugs, and was hanging out with Sydney a lot. Lenard was proud. In a way, he reminded him of his son. He had been troubled at first, getting involved in drugs and the such but he had eventually straightened himself up. However unlike his son, Dan would get the chance to fully turn his life around. To make something out of himself.

"Hey dudes, how's Reyna doing?" he questioned, scanning the room for her.

"She's getting ready, the doctor gave the okay for her to be released." Corrine informed him.

Sydney walked in, coffee in hand and didn't bother to disguise the glare she was directing at Corrine. Even though it had been a necessity in a life or death situation, Sydney had never forgiven Corrine for what she had done. It wasn't healthy to hold such a grudge, Lenard knew, but he couldn't tell people what to feel or think. It was up to Sydney.

Corrine cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Um I'm going to go and sign Reyna's paperwork. Be right back." She shifted in between Dan and Sydney and briskly stepped out of the room.

"How long are you going to keep this up?" Dan asked, exasperated.

Sydney glowered at him. "She all but gutted me, Dan. Sorry if I don't enjoy her presence anywhere near me."

Dan shrugged, a loopy smile on his face. "Whatever you say. Now if you two ever decide to work this stuff out in a mud pit somewhere, make sure to let me know."

Ah, same old Dan.

Reyna came out from the bathroom, sporting a plain tee and some jeans. She looked at everyone brightly. "Ready?"

"Corrine is still signing some of your paper work but we could go and visit Dr. Gordon on the third floor if you want." Dan offered.

Reyna shrugged and they all went for the elevators, passing Corrine on the way who assured them that she was almost done. They reached the third floor and spotted Jill near the nurse's station.

"Let's go and say hi."

They all began walking to her, all but Reyna who stayed behind, staring out a long window. Lenard noticed and came to her side. "Are you okay?" he asked cautiously.

"Yeah, it's just been a long time. You know they don't have any windows like these in the psych ward. They're afraid of us finding some way to hurt ourselves." she answered quietly.

Lenard felt a chill creeping up his back. "Why did you-"

"Do you think we'll ever change?" she interrupted, still staring out the window, taking in all the outside activity that she had been deprived of for so long.

"Uh what?"

"Change. The whole point of the game was to appreciate your life more wasn't it? Do you think we can ever reach that point? Leave all this behind and just move on with our lives?" her voice was low. It had lost it's previous happy tone.

"Uh yes. Yes, I think we can."

He knew that Reyna sensed the uncertainty in his voice.

"But I killed an innocent man. My parents are dead, I cheated on my girlfriend, and my last boyfriend was apparently the sick fuck who forced us through all this. How can I move on with all that hanging over my head?" Her question was desperate. She need an answer from him. She needed reassurance.

"You just need to hold on a bit longer. We'll all get through this together with time." he told her softly.

Her face fell. "I can't wait anymore." she whispered darkly. Suddenly, her fist smashed against Lenard's face and before he could regain his balance, she dashed towards the window and jumped straight through it.

It shattered violently, sending shards everywhere as her body flew downwards, arms spread out eagerly awaiting her death.

SPLAT

Shrieks and screams filled the hospital wing as Lenard struggled to stand up while surrounded by a throng of people that had crowded the window. He felt blood flowing out of his nose but he didn't care. All he cared about was the young girl that had just jumped to her death moments ago.

John had been wrong.

Sometimes the trials did help, they had made him appreciate his life but other times they just made you realize how shitty your life had been in the first place. Sometimes, they gave you that final push.

* * *

Hoffman groaned in pain, not even bothering to try and move anymore. He had lost the strength to do so a long time ago. The darkness taunted him constantly reminding him of his hopeless situation. His throat was dry, aching for a drop of water and his stomach was growling, begging for a small morsel of anything. His wounded shoulder had gone numb as if his body had finally realized that there was really no point in hurting anymore. He was going to die soon anyways.

The cold dirty floor felt nice against his dry skin. He dropped his head and breathed slowly, taking in the disgusting rotting smell that he had already become accustomed to.

_So when's your test, Detective?_

His head shot up. There it was again, the voice.

"What do you want from me?" Hoffman croaked.

_I want to know if you have what it takes to survive._

Another familiar voice. The dehydration had nulled his senses but even in this state he knew that voice anywhere.

"Leave me alone!" he cried. His throat burned.

And then one of the voices began quoting him. Began quoting the letter that he had written in what seemed like an eternity ago.

_Amanda, you were with Cecil the night Jill lost Gideon. You killed their child. You know it and I know it, so do exactly as I say. Kill Lynn Denlon or I will tell John what you did._

A gunshot burst through the air and Hoffman almost jumped but was too weak to do so. He could hear desperate strangled breathing. As if someone was choking, choking on blood.

_So Mark, you thought that by deceiving Amanda you would get rid of the competition? Did you know that I would die as well? Or was that your intention all along? Either way, you intervened with the games. You didn't follow the rules. You were given second chances and willingly threw them out the window. How did that work out for you?_

Hoffman recoiled at the sound of his former mentor's voice berating him.

And then came _her_ voice. _Well Detective, now you really are going to have to get used to me because I'm not going anywhere._

The voices were getting closer and closer until he saw them. Their thin silhouettes in the back. John and Amanda.

"NO NO!" Hoffman yelled.

Their arms reached out for him. "LEAVE ME ALONE! NO! NO!"

And then both voices mingled as they spoke, _Game over._

**Author's Note: And there it is, the end. And so here are the list of the survivors:**

**Survivors of the game:**

**Corrine McDowell, Lenard Rodriguez, Sydney Terrell, Dan Miller, and Trish Sinclair.**

**Anti-Jigsaw survivors:**

**Lawrence Gordon and Jill Tuck**

**I hope the ending wasn't too sucky because in all honesty I wasn't feeling all that creative when writing it. Also, not so sure about the Jill and Lawrence couple it just seemed like a good idea at the time. Doctor and clinic nurse? No? Oh well. I meant for Reyna's death to give some insight as to the after effects of the games. People don't always walk out 'appreciating their lives more'. Thank you all for the amazing characters, for faving, and for reading and reviewing! It meant a lot!**

**News: I will NOT be continuing my 'Scream' story :( I just don't have that 'excitement level' needed to write a good fic and it wouldn't be fair to the readers if I just wrote something that I put no effort into. So sorry to all those who submitted a character. I really am sorry...but I will be finishing up the 'Heroes' story if that's of any consolation and I MIGHT be writing a LOST fanfic in the future.**


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